


Shock Wave

by pamz



Series: A Shocking Trilogy [3]
Category: Scorpion (TV 2014)
Genre: Abandonment Issues, Angst, Court Proceedings, F/M, Fade to black sex, Family Issues, Fluffy Waige Goodness, Immigration woes, Mention of attempted rape, Miscommunication, Pregnancy, Pregnant Paige in Peril, Secret Marriage, That damn sex tape again., Trilogy Conclusion, Witness Badgering, alternative universe, bad language
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-08-07
Updated: 2018-11-19
Packaged: 2018-12-12 10:50:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 19
Words: 47,056
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11735517
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pamz/pseuds/pamz
Summary: AU conclusion to the "Shocking" Trilogy.  The repercussions continue for Walter and Paige as they prepare for their captors' trial and the birth of their child.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> The third and final installment of the AU "Shocking" trilogy (if you haven't already, please read my fics "Shell Shocked" and "Aftershocks" before reading this one, it will make more sense if you do). This story begins approximately 2 months after the end of "Aftershocks". 
> 
> Disclaimer: This story is an amateur, not-for-profit publication produced solely for the enjoyment of other Scorpion fans and is not intended to infringe upon any rights of K/O Paper Products, Blackjack Productions, Perfect Storm Entertainment, SB Films, CBS Television Studios, or anyone else.

_The nightmares were back._

Walter bolted upright from the mattress, shaking his head to clear away the last horrifying remnants of his all-too-real dream. One where Paige had refused to be raped and they'd slit her throat.

Taking a deep breath, he glanced over at her, sleeping peacefully beside him. It was August, so it was warm and her pregnancy made her even warmer, she'd tossed off the blanket covering them sometime in the night. She was at seven months, her belly big and round with their son.

Sliding behind her, he slipped his arms around her, stroking her stomach and kissing her lightly on the shoulder. He hadn't known it was possible to love someone as much as he loved her. Before he'd met her, he hadn't believed such a love _was_ even possible. He'd been a moron.

Their nightmares had returned the day they had received the subpoenas to appear as witnesses. Five members of the militia group had refused plea deals, which Walter believed was a sign they wanted to air their grievances in a public forum. Which meant he and Paige would be once again plunged into the horrific ordeal they'd tried so hard to put behind them. 

Tomorrow morning they were to meet the team of prosecuting federal attorneys to go over their testimony and protocol for the trial. Walter had been in court before, but always as a defendant. It would be a change of pace to be on the other side for once. 

Still caressing her stomach, he was rewarded with a kick against the palm of his hand. He could feel the tiny foot through Paige's skin, terrified by how small it was, yet impressed with its strength. It was moments like this the weight of his impending fatherhood laid heavily upon him. He was going to be partially responsible for the well-being of this wee human being. What if he couldn't connect with his son, like his father had never connected with him? What if. . .?

Paige stirred in her sleep, interrupting his troublesome thoughts, and he froze, hoping he hadn't disturbed her. Easing away, he rolled out of the bed and headed toward the bathroom. As he was about to step inside, he heard a quiet voice.

"Walter?"

"Ralph." Relief he hadn't awaken Paige was short-lived as he realized he had instead roused the boy genius. "You okay, buddy?"

"Mom's okay? I thought I heard someone shouting." Worry lined the youngster's face. Walter knelt down and tousled the boy's hair.

"She's fine. It was. . .it was, uh, me. Bad dream." His stomach churned as images from his nightmare flashed through his mind.

"Oh. I thought you guys were over those. And then you got those letters." Ralph sighed with all the weariness of an adult. Walter should have been surprised the preteen even knew about their earlier traumatic dreams, but he wasn't. The youngster was observant, sometimes disconcertingly so

"It was a rough time for your mom. . .and me," Walter admitted reluctantly.

"‘Cause those guys did bad stuff to you and Mom?"

"Yeah. I'm sorry I woke you up," he said, wanting to change the subject. He was going to have to spend enough time dwelling on what happened over the course of the next few weeks. And the less Ralph knew, the better, in his opinion.

"But it wasn't all bad," the youngster stated. "It brought you and my mom together, and I'm going to get a baby brother." He smiled. "I've wanted a sibling for a long time."

Walter smiled, remembering how important having a sibling had been to him. Megan had been his lifeline growing up. This baby would be much younger than Ralph, but hopefully the connection between them would be as strong as his had been with his sister. She would have been so happy he'd finally let himself love. And she would have been ecstatic to be an aunt.

Pushing aside his melancholy thoughts, he ruffled the boy's hair again. "Better get back to bed." Walter doubted he'd be able to sleep, but he didn't want to keep anyone else up either.

"Yeah. Okay." Ralph yawned. "See ya in the morning. Later in the morning, I mean."

"Good night." Walter waited until the boy genius shuffled back to his bedroom before making his way to his intended destination.

_____

"What about Brendan?"

"Who's Brendan?" Walter took his eyes off the road for a moment to look at her. Their morning had been the usual chaotic routine of getting ready for the day, except today Paige kept breaking down over trivial things. Like getting upset because Ralph threw a wet towel on the floor (a habit the boy had unfortunately picked up from him). Yelling at him because she'd forgotten he'd modified the toaster to work more efficiently and she'd burnt the toast. 

He knew it was the stress of the trial hanging over their heads, he was feeling it too. But he didn't recall anyone named Brendan. Maybe he was one of Ralph's friends?

She giggled as she held up her phone. "Not who, what," she said cryptically. "What about Declan? Or Finn? How about Liam?"

"Who are they?" He turned to look at her again as she scrolled through a website on her cell. 

Sighing, she leaned back in her seat and rubbed her belly. "Names for the baby. We need to think about what we're going to name him."

"Oh." Walter frowned. He had to admit he hadn't given it much thought, even though the child was due to arrive in about two months.

"We could name him after your father. Ralph is named after mine, so. . ."

"We're not naming him Sean," he stated adamantly. He ran the other names she'd mentioned through his brain and realized they had a common theme. "Why all the Irish names? Isn't O'Brien Irish enough?"

"Who says his last name is going to be O'Brien?" she snapped, crossing her arms over her burgeoning belly.

_Oh, shit_. Walter turned into the nearest parking lot and stopped the vehicle before glancing over at Paige. She was biting her lip, tears shimmering in her eyes. She wasn't making an idle threat. Ralph's surname was Dineen instead of Baker, even though she and Drew had been together when he'd been born. She could do the same with this child. 

"We're going to be late," she pointed out with a huff.

"I don't care." He ran his hand over his face. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to upset you. You're right, it's your prerogative to decide what to name him. I just assumed. . ."

"You just assumed he'd have your last name?" Paige sighed as she reached for his hand. "I've been doing some research. Did you know Dineen is Irish, too? I didn't." With a shrug, she added, "I just thought we could honor our shared heritage."

"I'm sorry," he repeated as he placed their entwined hands on her belly. "Life is hard enough without being saddled with a name that reminds everyone of leprechauns and the Blarney stone and all the other Irish stereotypes."

"Is that what happened to you?" 

He nodded. "It was difficult for some people to take me seriously when I first came to the States. I was a scrawny Irish lad with a 197 IQ and a brogue that everyone thought was adorable. I dropped the accent as soon as I could."

"It slips out from time to time, you know," she said with a wobbly smile. 

"It does?" 

"Yeah, like when we're. . .uh, intimate." Paige's cheeks flushed a bright pink as she giggled. "And I have to agree. It's adorable."

Heat swept over him from head to toe and he had to grip the steering wheel to get himself under control. Even after all the months they'd been together, the physical side of their relationship still overwhelmed him. It didn't help her ever-changing body continually aroused him, and he had begun to wonder if he was some kind of pervert. Although, he thought with some relief, he didn't lust after all pregnant women, just Paige. Still. . .

"We don't have to decide today, do we?" he asked after a few moments. 

"No." She turned off her phone. "I was just distracting myself. I'm scared, Walter."

"I know." He took her hand and gave it a squeeze. "You'll do fine. The facts are on our side, there's nothing to worry about," he lied. He was scared, too. The people they were testifying against thought holding the President hostage had been a worthy plan to get their way. It was obvious logic and critical thinking skills weren't their forte. They were bullies. And he had enough experience with bullies to be afraid the remaining militia members might try to retaliate against them because of their testimony. 

"I wish I could believe that." She fumbled in her purse for a tissue. "And we really are going to be late."

He reached over and slipped his arms around her, drawing her as close as he could in the confines of the car. She laid her head on his shoulder and he kissed her hair. "It's going to be okay, love," he reassured her before letting go and restarting the engine.

_____

Walter held the door open as Paige walked into the conference room they'd been directed to inside the courthouse. It surprised him how natural it seemed, even though he'd believed for years it was a sexist and antiquated gesture. Maybe it had never made sense before because he'd never been in love before.

His speculation was cut short as a man in his mid thirties, came toward them. "Ms Dineen, Mr O'Brien, thank you for coming," he said as both Walter and Paige shook his hand. "I'm Jason Prewitt, Assistant US Attorney. I've been assigned to your case." A frown marred the man's face for a moment as he flicked his gaze to the bright pink t-shirt stretched tight over Paige's distended abdomen.

"Won't you please be seated," Prewitt offered, indicating the chairs arranged around the long table dominating the center of the room. "We can get star. . ."

He was interrupted as a short middle-aged woman strode into the room, carrying several folders under her arm. She came to a halt, her eyes widening. "What the hell is that?" she asked, jabbing her finger accusingly toward Paige's belly. 

A shudder ran through Walter. Beside him Paige did the same, leading him to believe she was remembering, as he was, Mark Collins having the same reaction several months earlier. 

The woman spun around to face Prewitt. "Why wasn't I informed she was pregnant?" she demanded. Without waiting for a response, she turned her attention back to Paige. "When are you due?"

"Around October 20th," replied the liaison, protectively clutching her stomach.

"October?" Walter watched as the woman did the mathematics in her head, her sour expression intensifying as she obviously didn't like the answer. She placed her fingers on her forehead as if she had a headache. "Please tell you were pregnant before you were taken hostage."

Paige shook her head, biting her lip. Walter, seeing she was on the verge of tears, placed his hand on the small of her back. Gently caressing her, he hoped the circular motion would calm him down as well. He could see where this line of questioning was heading, and he didn't like it.

"After?" The woman slammed the files she'd been carrying down on the table when once again the reply was negative. "So you're telling me you engaged in unprotected sex on the day of your captivity?" She sneered as she waved her hand at Walter. "Is this the father? Or is it your ex-boyfriend who was living with you at the time. Or maybe one of the mil. . ." 

"Shut up!" Walter shouted, his hands and jaw clenching with rage. He ignored Paige's gasp, too outraged by the woman's insinuation Paige was some kind of. . .well, some kind of promiscuous slut. "Who the hell are you?" he snapped contemptuously.

Narrowing her eyes at him, she replied icily, "I'm Molly Lee, the US Attorney for the Central District of Southern California." Glancing down at the folders, she rummaged through them, picking one up and flicking it open. "And you must be Walter O'Brien. The genius with a 197 IQ. Who was apparently too stupid to use birth control." She looked up from the file and smiled mockingly at him.

Walter took a step toward the attorney, but his progress was impeded by Paige clasping his face in her palms. "Walter, calm down. They're on our side, okay?"

Anger still boiled inside him as he shook her off, turning to glare at Ms Lee. "She can't say that about you. . . You're not. . ."

"Walter, shhh. . ." Paige placed her hands on his face again, forcing him to look her in the eyes. Her lavender scent filled his senses, and most of his temper fled as she lightly stroked his cheeks with her thumbs. "It's okay. I think I know what she's doing. You can't lose your temper like this in court."

"She's right," the attorney said smugly. "If you think that was vicious, wait until the defense cross-examines you. They're certainly not going to play nice." She gestured toward Paige again. "This ill-timed development is going to be used against her reliability as a witness."

Walter stared down at his shoes, pressing his lips together. Guilt rose within him, irrational as it was, whenever he was reminded he'd placed all the burden of preventing a pregnancy on Paige. It had been a fluke she'd conceived at all. They had barely been speaking to each other when the day in question had begun. Engaging in intercourse had been the last thing on his mind. . .until it happened. But he could never regret it, not when the result had brought him and Paige together. 

"And you, Mr O'Brien, you're quite the piece of work." Ms Lee held up a folder. "Hacking into NASA at age eleven, truancy, reported as a runaway numerous times, arrested several times for various offenses including charges last year of improper operation of a motor vehicle and destruction of private property after driving a borrowed Ferrari over the side of a cliff. Which, by the way, cost the county thousands of dollars to rescue you. 

"Any and all of that can, and most likely, will be used against your credibility." The attorney gestured for them to sit down. "Now, before we get into your statements, let's go over the do's and don't's.

Rage roiled up inside him. He opened his mouth, intending to tell Ms Lee where she could stick her ‘do's and don't's', when Paige laid her hand on his arm. "That's not going to help," she murmured, once again seemingly reading his mind. "They're on our side, remember?"

Taking a deep breath which did nothing to relax him, Walter nodded as he pulled out a chair for Paige before sitting down next to her.

_____

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry, sorry, sorry, it has taken so long to finally post this final story of my trilogy. It's still a work in progress so I won't be posting on a regular basis. I still need to finish up Rock You Like a Cyclone, and I probably go back and forth between it and this one. I have a third story I may start posting before the new season starts. We'll see.
> 
> Hope you enjoy this one. It's going to be a angsty ride!


	2. Chapter 2

"What about this one?" Paige held the dress in front of her, watching it drape over the bulge of her stomach. 

"Uh, I-I. . .um." Walter's eyes darted from side to side, probably searching for something to put himself out of his misery. "It-It looks, ah. . .okay?"

She had to bite her lip to keep from laughing. Poor Walter. If the last place she wanted to be was this maternity shop, she could only imagine where he'd rather be. His eyes were like saucers, his arms crossed firmly over his chest as he stood as still as statue. Almost as if he was afraid if he touched any of the merchandise or fixtures, he'd burn up in flames of embarrassment.

Which was probably her fault for dragging him with her in the first place And giggling her head off when he'd picked up a breast pump and wondered aloud what it was for. But Ms Lee (aka Attila the Attorney) had commanded Paige buy the most innocent looking maternity dress she could find to wear for the trial, after finding major fault with her current outfit of a non-maternity tee shirt and cropped yoga pants.

"No, it doesn't," she said, glancing down at the floral tent-sized dress. "It looks hideous." Hanging it back onto the rack, she pulled out the next one. It was even more horrifying than the last one, neon yellow with bright purple roses and moss green leaves. "Ugh, who would even wear this?"

"Uh, pregnant women?"

"No, duh, Mr Brainiac, " she snapped. "Sorry." She put the dress back and waddled (yes, _waddled_ , dammit) to where he was standing. Placing a hand on his arm, she patted it gently. "You can go wait in the car if you want."

"I'm okay," he said automatically, a slight flush rising on his cheeks as he added, "Uh, it's actually, um, quite fascinating. . .watching you. . .uh, shop."

"Your funeral," she said with a shrug before pulling out another dress, this one Pepto-Bismol pink and covered in lace and bows. "Why is everything so fussy? You don't have answer that, Walter," she said as he opened his mouth. 

"I was just going to say you look beautiful no matter what you're wearing." He smiled tightly at her, a sign he was worried about upsetting her.

His words had the opposite effect though. "Thank you," she said, kissing him on the cheek. "That was a very sweet thing to say."

"I do try." His grin grew broader and she was once again dazzled by how handsome he was when he smiled. He still didn't do it often enough, which was probably just as well. She'd never get anything done if she was constantly melting into a big gooey puddle.

"Well, you could try and help me find something," she said with a sigh. "My feet hurt." She swore she could feel her ankles swelling up like balloons.

Glancing around the store, Walter pointed to something to her left. "There's a chair and footrest. You could sit and I could bring y-you dr-dresses to look at."

"Sounds like a plan." Paige plopped down in the padded leather chair and hoisted her legs up onto the matching ottoman. "Ah, much better. Okay, let the fashion show begin," she said with a wave of her hand.

He brought over dress after dress, all equally horrifying. "Try to find something in a solid color," she urged, shielding her eyes as he held up yet another ghastly floral nightmare.

"Okay." He was gone for several minutes, and she wondered if he'd gotten lost or if he'd decided to make his escape while he had the chance. Closing her eyes, she ran her hands over her belly as the baby squiggled about inside her.

"How about this?" Walter's question startled her and she looked up to see him holding a red dress. A red sleeveless sheath with a deeply scooped neckline and made from some kind of slinky material.

"Uh, it's beautiful, but. . ." She bit her lip. He seemed so proud of himself, she hated to burst his bubble over how inappropriate his selection was.

"It-It's a solid color. And you look good in red," he said defensively when she hesitated.

"It's hardly innocent looking though."

"Oh." She watched as Walter gave the dress an assessing going-over. "I-I, uh, still think you should, um, try it on." He held out another dress, a navy blue one with a sailor collar and big white bow. "This one, too."

"All right," she said, swinging her feet off the footrest, and held out her hand. He helped her up, and she took the garments from him. With a sigh, she headed for the dressing room.

Fifteen minutes later, she stepped out in the navy dress. "It looks nice," Walter said as he once again was standing statue-like in front of the door. He looked more frightened than he had earlier, and she wondered if someone from the staff or another customer had approached him while she'd been changing. "You don't like it?" he asked.

Frowning down at the dress she was wearing, she said, "Not really, but it's certainly innocent looking enough. It looks like something a first grader would have worn back in the ‘70's. Come to think of it, I remember seeing a picture of my mother wearing a dress just like this when she was in first grade."

"Maybe you should try on the other one," he suggested with what sounded like a hopeful note in his voice. Glancing at him, she caught a trace of eagerness in his expression just before he slid a mask of indifference over his face. 

Saving her speculation of his odd behavior for later, she said, "Okay," and went back inside.

She smiled as Walter's eyes nearly popped out of his head when she emerged from the dressing room a few minutes later. The red dress clung to her body, accentuating her stomach, and the low neckline put her pregnancy-enlarged breasts on prominent display. 

"See," she said as she moved closer, "not so innocent looking at all."

"N-N-No." His gaze raked her from head to toe, his chest heaving as though he'd been running. "Y-You l-look stunning." Reaching out, he touched her belly, caressing the silky fabric. "I, uh. . .I think w-we should buy this one."

"But when would I wear it?" she asked with a shake of her head. "It's not appropriate for the trial. And I'm only going to be pregnant for a couple more months."

"I have a few ideas," he replied cryptically. "We-we could get the other dress too. For the trial."

"Fine with me." She turned around and lifted her hair. "Can you help me with the zipper? I had a tough time zipping it up when I was putting it on."

For a moment or two, she thought Walter had suffered a stroke. His mouth was hanging open and his eyes were unfocused and he appeared to be rooted to the floor. Then she realized just what she'd asked him to do. 

Subtle hints usually flew right over his head. Basically requesting he undress her in public, well. . . His brain probably exploded. "Don't worry about it, I can. . ." she began, not wanting him to get the wrong idea.

"No, no, I-I c-can. . .I can do it." Glancing over her shoulder, she watched as he approached her, his left hand trembling badly as he reached for the zipper pull. His fingers grazed the back of her neck, sending a spiral of lust down her spine before pooling low in her abdomen.

"Maybe we should go inside?" she suggested, pointing to the mirrored alcove where she'd been changing. Because now, the wrong idea seemed like a really good idea. The room was fully enclosed when the door was closed and its padded bench was small but sturdy. The noise might prove dicey, but they could be quiet, when properly motivated. And she fairly certain he was as motivated as she was at the moment.

She grinned knowingly as she watched him reach the same conclusion she had. "Uh, I'm not sure we should. . ." he began, interrupting himself by taking a deep breath. She reached out and took his hand. 

"Oh, I think we should." Paige ran her fingers over his shoulders and into his curls, causing him to shudder.

"Okay." He nodded, letting her pull him into the dressing room.

After shutting and locking the door, Paige spun around, lifting the hair from the back of her neck again. She smiled coyly at him. "Unzip me?"

_____

"Where the hell have you two been?"

Cabe's growled question stopped Walter in his tracks. Paige took the garment bag containing her new dresses from him and lifted it into the air.

"Dress shopping. Direct order from the US Federal Attorney," she said before draping the bag over the top of her desk. 

"And is there a reason why neither of you could answer your cells?" 

Walter glanced at Paige, who unsuccessfully tried to hide a smile. "Uh, we had to. . . We had to sh-shut them off for our, um, meeting," he lied as he certainly wasn't going to tell the Homeland agent they'd turned them off while having sex in a maternity shop dressing room. Perspiration formed on his brow as his face flushed with heat. Paige nodded her head vigorously in agreement, her own cheeks a bright pink.

"Well, Richard Elia has been calling all morning," said Cabe. "He's having trouble with that throttle you designed. His manned rocket is scheduled to launch in three days and if it fails, his funding from NASA dries up." The agent tapped his watch. "The rest of the team went on ahead to the facility almost an hour ago. I suggest you gather up what you need and get your ass over there, pronto."

"So much for putting my feet up for awhile," Paige said, shrugging as she slung her purse back over her shoulder.

"There's no need for you to go, kid." The older man's voice was full of fatherly concern. "You should stay and rest. Walter is usually on his best behavior around Elia."

"Except for the time he hit him upside the head with a laptop," Paige countered with a chuckle. "Okay, you've twisted my arm, Cabe. I'll stay."

Walter pressed his lips together to keep from blurting out, "No, I want you to come with me." Even he knew how selfish it would sound. But leaving her by herself terrified him, his brain enumerating all the scenarios in which Paige or the baby or both could be endangered. He'd never forgive himself if anything happened to either of them.

But she did appear tired, he noticed as she continued to chat with Cabe. The dark circles under her eyes, her weary stance, the slight swelling of her ankles. . . The lack of sleep caused by their nightmares was taking a toll on her as well. She _did_ need to rest. Tearing his gaze from her, he went to collect his gear.

"Be careful," he murmured a few minutes later as she wrapped her arms around him.

She laughed. "How much trouble can I get into while taking a nap?" she asked. But under her levity, he noted her nervousness. She was just as reluctant to be away from him as he was from her. Separation anxiety Toby had called it, just like after they'd been taken hostage. Yet another unwelcome symptom brought back by the impending trial.

"We better get going, son," Cabe called out from where he stood by the garage door.

"You be careful, too," she said, "I love you." She leaned in and gave him a peck on the mouth.

"Love you." Walter hefted his backpack onto his shoulder before placing his free hand on her stomach.

"You probably shouldn't keep Elia waiting," she commented as he rubbed her belly. 

"Probably not," he mumbled, feeling their son moving about inside her. Richard Elia could wait. A mischievous thought crossed his mind then, and even though he knew she'd never agree. . .

"I just thought of a name for the baby," he announced, trying to suppress a grin.

"What?"

"Ralph starts with an ‘R'. So what about Richard?"

"No way," she said in a tone he recognized as exasperation. "No child of mine is going to be nicknamed Dick."

Oh, damn, he hadn't even thought of that. _Dick_. Laughter burst from his lips as he could no longer contain his mirth.

"Not funny, mister." Paige put her hands on his chest and pushed him backward, giggling a little herself. "You better go before I have to hurt you."

"Okay, okay." Leaning forward, he kissed her cheek then walked out the door. He was still chuckling as he climbed into Cabe's SUV.

_____

An insistent buzzing near her ear roused Paige from her sleep. Sitting up, her confusion disappeared as she remember she was taking a nap in the loft on what used to be Walter's bed. Yawning, she heard the buzzing again, and realized it was coming from her phone lying on her pillow. She picked it up and answered without checking the caller.

"Hello?"

"Sorry to wake you up, kid," said Cabe in a voice that didn't seem sorry at all. "Can you be ready to leave in five minutes? There's a car coming to pick you up."

"Sure," she said, still a little groggy as she ran her hand through her hair. "I just have to pee."

"Just do what you need to do and get downstairs." She could hear the urgency in his tone and instantly became alert. There could only be one reason why he'd be calling her. . .

"Oh, God, Cabe, what's going on? Is Walter. . .? Is he. . . is he. . .?" Her words floundered as she suddenly couldn't catch her breath.

"Sweetheart, calm down, he's still alive. . ." _For now_ , she thought, filling in the older man's pause. "We're doing everything we can, but. . ."

"Cabe, please, tell me. . ." 

"He was accidentally launched into space, and we're gonna need your help getting him back down to Earth."

Before Paige could think of anything coherent to say in reply, a loud knock rang out from the downstairs as Walter's son kicked inside her.


	3. Chapter 3

Escorted by two of Elia's security guards, Paige was lead into the control room of the tech mogul's aeronautics compound. Toby, Sylvester, and Elia were huddled around a computer screen, tipping their heads one way then the other.

"What the hell is going on?" she snapped, placing her hand on her stomach. All three men spun around, with varying degrees of guilt and amusement on their faces.

Toby recovered first and ushered her into a chair. "He's hypoxic." Her confusion must have shown on her face because he went on to explain, "He's running out of oxygen and it's causing him to hallucinate. He thinks you're up there with him."

He pushed her chair up to the console so she could see Walter floating inside the capsule. "Why is he kissing his hand?"

Sly turned bright red and even Elia's cheeks were flushed. "He's reliving your shared hostage experience," said the psychiatrist. "Which is completely understandable since it's on his mind considering the trial is in ten days. And unless I'm mistaken, which I almost never am, I believe we're about to get a slow motion replay of the conception of the bambino in your belly."

"Oh, boy." She put her hand to her mouth. "What's he been saying?" Oh, God, had he already revealed his. . .his lack of experience? He would be mortified if anyone else knew.

"Things," was all Toby said. He had a grim look on his face, and she breathed a little easier. That the doc wasn't making sexually inappropriate wisecracks made her certain Walter had so far kept his confession to himself.

"Paige, you only have a few minutes," said the shrink urgently. "So talk to him and get him to pull that big blue lever that opens the exterior hatch." 

"What if I can't do it? 

"Then he runs out of oxygen and he dies."

She winced as the seriousness of the situation weighed heavily upon her. "Okay, everybody out."

Elia left quietly, but Toby and Sylvester stood their ground. "What if you need our help?" asked the human calculator.

"This is a private conversation between me and Walter," she stated firmly. "If I need help, I'll let you know. Now, out!"

Grumbling under their collective breath, both men departed the control room. After scolding Happy for listening over the coms, Paige turned on the microphone on the desk in front of her.

" _Paige, wake up. It's just a dream_." She could see the concern on his handsome face, recalling the nightmare she'd had about Ralph. Right before they. . .well, what Toby had said.

"I'm awake, Walter," she spoke into the mic, watching as he held out his arms as though he was putting them around her, reminding her how safe she'd felt in his embrace. 

" _Ralph's all right_." He mimicked pulling her closer and patting her back.

"I know he is." Biting her lip, she racked her brain, trying to think of a way to get him out of his head. "Walter, I. . ."

" _Paige, wait_." A stunned expression fell over his features as he suddenly backed away. Dammit, she knew that look. He was only seconds away from pouring out his heart to her, and to anyone who was eavesdropping.

"Walter, listen," she said a bit harshly. "You have to pull the blue lever. Please, do it for me."

" _Lever?_ " Glancing around, he looked puzzled. " _There's no lever. There isn't even a door knob. We can't escape. I've already. . ._ "

"Yes, yes we can," insisted Paige. With a grimace, she continued, "It's right next to me. I need you to pull it."

" _Aren't you still mad at me?_ "

She echoed the same reply she'd given him in the musty storage room. "Walter, I was never mad at you. Frustrated, yes. Confused, yes. But never mad." 

" _I need to tell you something before, I mean, if we. . ._ " Oh, God, the pain and shame in his eyes. . . It had nearly broken her heart the first she'd witnessed it, this second glimpse was having the same effect. Oh, what she'd give to slap the bitch who'd humiliated him.

"Walter, it can wait. Wait until we're out of here." 

" _But I need to tell you. . . I'm a. . ._ "

"Sweetheart, you can tell me later," she cut him off before he blurted out his secret. "We need to get out of here. Please. Just pull the damn lever."

His face grew even more bewildered. " _Sweetheart? Why would you. . .? I don't understand_."

Tipping her head back, she groaned with frustration. "Yes, you do. Please, the lever."

He shook his head as if he was trying to clear it. " _I don't see it. I just see your hand_."

"That's what I meant." Paige inhaled sharply before continuing, "Take my hand and pull me close. Then everything will be okay, Walter. I promise."

" _Okay_." She held her breath as he reached out his hand, blowing it out in disappointment when his aim was off and he missed the lever by several inches. Getting a good look at his face, terror filled her as she realized his lips were turning blue and he was barely conscious. 

"Come on, Walter, please," she whispered as he made a second attempt, his fingers only just grazing the handle. For a moment she thought it would slipped out of his grasp, then his hand gripped the lever and he yanked it toward him.

Her eyes widened in horror as an opening appeared beneath Walter, who had passed out; his fingers sliding from the handle as he was sucked out of the rocket and into the atmosphere..

"Noooo! Walter!" Doubling over as she screamed, she barely noticed as the three men rushed back into the room. Sylvester started tossing out instructions she couldn't comprehend. "What the hell?" she gasped, grabbing her abdomen. "Why didn't you. . .you tell me? This was the plan?"

"His orbit was decaying and he was going to suffocate from the lack of oxygen in less than two minutes," Sly declared. "It was the only way to. . ."

"How is this better?" she demanded to know. "He can't survive this fall. . .can he?" Another spasm hit her, and she moaned softly.

"We're working on it," said Elia before turning to consult with Sylvester.

"Oh, God." She'd been experiencing contractions since receiving Cabe's phone call; slight, uncomfortable twinges she'd ignored for the most part. But after watching Walter disappear from the capsule, the cramping had intensified in strength and frequency.

"How far apart?" Toby's quiet question shook her out of her stupor. She twisted in the chair to look up at him.

"I don't know," she replied, "I haven't been keeping track. In case you haven't noticed, the father of this child is plummeting to his death as we speak."

"You need to go to the hospital, they can. . ."

She shook her head. "No, I'm not going anywhere until we save Walter."

"Paige, we'll do everything we can, but the odds aren't good," the shrink said, doing a lousy job of reassuring her. "If you're in premature labor. . ."

"I'm not going anywhere!" Her breathing grew irregular as she raised her voice. "Walter has saved your asses more times than I can count! So you better come up with something to save his! Oh, damn. . ."

Another pain rippled through her and she had to brace herself against the back of the chair. "Oh, God, is she having the baby?" asked Sly, his panic evident in his tone and wide eyes.

"Yes." "No." Both the psychiatrist and the liaison answered the human calculator at the same time. "I was in labor for over 30 hours with Ralph," Paige declared, overriding Toby's protests, "and there's no reason to believe this one won't take that long too. Just concentrate on saving his father." Tears filled her eyes as she stroked her stomach. "Please."

The men stared at her in varying degrees of horror and sympathy for a moment before scrambling to fulfill her request.

_____

Paige waddled into the waiting area outside the ICU where the rest of the team and Richard Elia had gathered. Toby had insisted she let a doctor check her out even though her pains had subsided as soon as she learned Walter had survived his fall from the capsule. Deciding to humor the shrink, she allowed herself to be led away for an examination in the hospital's obstetrics department.

Clutching a slip of paper, she plopped down in the first chair she saw, and opened her mouth to ask about Walter. Glancing around, she discovered everyone's attention was focused on Cabe and Elia standing in the middle of the room.

"This is all my fault," the tech mogul was saying, "I'll take care of any medical expenses."

"Walter's already covered by Homeland," growled the agent.

"Okay, but I'll pay for the best neurologists in the country to give him cognitive evaluations." Elia put his hand on his hip. "Or will Homeland cover that too?"

"Fine." Gallo took a sip from the paper cup he was holding and grimaced.

"And the next time I send up a manned rocket, Walter can get a free ride into space." The other man had a ‘let's see you try to top that' smirk on his face.

Cabe let out an sarcastic chuckle. "Doubt he'd be interested."

"He told me it's something he's wanted to do since he was a boy," Elia declared smugly.

"Yeah, I know, I'm the one who busted him when he hacked NASA when he was eleven." The Homeland agent's mouth grew into a mischievous grin. "I imagine after today though, he's changed his mind."

Paige jumped when Toby slid into the seat next to hers. "What's going on?" she asked, gesturing toward the two older men.

"Cabe and Elia are having a Dad-Off, and Walter's the prize," the shrink quipped. 

"Who's winning?" 

"Papa Gallo. So, hey," he said, changing the subject, "everything okay?"

"Yeah, false alarm. The doctor said it was Braxton Hicks contractions brought on by stress," she replied, waving the paper in her hand. "She gave me a list of relaxation techniques and told me to cut down on salt."

The fire doors leading to the ICU opened and a man came out carrying a chart. "Who's here for Walter O'Brien?" he asked.

Cabe, who'd been about to argue another point with Elia, stepped forward. "We all are."

"I'm Dr Ruiz. Mr O'Brien has regained consciousness and we've run a series of tests. He has a stress fracture on his L5. . ."

"What's that?" Paige held out her hand and Toby helped her to her feet.

"It's the fifth lumbar vertebra," the shrink explained before nodding to the doctor, who seemed a bit put out. "Go on," he urged Ruiz with an arrogant wave of his hand.

"Yes, well, he's also suffering from some memory loss, we're just not sure how much. He's been drifting in and out and it's been hard to gauge his lucidity. We're going to keep him overnight for observation." Flipping the papers on his clipboard, he started to turn around.

"Wait." Paige stepped forward. "Can we see him?"

"Are you his wife?" The physician's eyes darted to the bare ring finger on her left hand then to her swollen stomach.

"Uh. . ." She considered lying, if that was what it took for her to see Walter. But judging by the shrink's expression, any claim she and Walter were married would be a juicy tidbit he'd use later to torment them both. She started to say no, but evidently she'd hesitated too long as Ruiz shook his head. 

"Only spouses and immediate family are permitted in the ICU," he stated in a decisive tone.

"That's his child in her belly," Cabe snarled, jabbing his finger in Paige's direction.

"Hers, too," grumbled Happy under her breath, her gaze firmly fixed on the rust colored carpet.

"You know what I mean." The agent looked flustered before adding, "He's gonna want to see Paige."

This bit of information raised the doctor's eyebrows. "Your name is Paige?" 

"Yes. Why?" Why would her name make a difference?

"He's been mumbling the word ‘page' a lot. We thought he was talking about a page in a book."

Toby's grin was almost too big for his face as he jerked his thumb at her. "Nope, he means her."

"Fine." The physician's shoulders sagged in defeat. "She can come back."

After following a nurse through a maze of hallways, Paige finally entered Walter's room. He was shirtless, his lower torso wrapped with white tape. There were dark circles under his eyes, which were closed. But they fluttered open as she approached the bed.

"Hey." The way his whole face lit up. . . Knowing he was probably whacked out on pain meds didn't dampen the tingly feeling quivering through her whole body.

"Oh, God, Walter, I'm. . ." She reached out and took his hand.

"Are you okay?" he asked, lines of concern marring his forehead. "I'm having trouble remembering. . . They didn't. . .they didn't hurt you?"

Oh, God, he was still caught up in his hallucination. "I'm fine," she reassured him, giving his fingers a squeeze. "Walter. . ."

He interrupted before she could ask him what he could recall. "Good. I meant what I said. That I. . .That I love you."

"I love you, too, Walter," she replied, her vision growing blurry.

"You were so. . .so brave." His words slurred and she could tell he was struggling to stay awake.

"I should go so you can get some rest."

"No, stay. I need. . .you. Please. . . Stay. . ." Paige watched the steady rise and fall of his chest as he drifted off to sleep.

He'd seemed so confused, mixing the present with the past. What if his brain had been deprived of oxygen for too long, and permanent damage had occurred? She knew she still love him whether he was a genius or not, but. . . To him, his 197 IQ was a huge part of who he was. Without it, she didn't know if he could cope. 

Finding a chair, she moved it closer to his bed and sat down, taking his hand in hers again. A tiny foot or fist (she wasn't sure which one) stuck near the lowest rib on her left side and she winced. 

Walter had never mentioned the baby, she realized, placing her free hand on her stomach. Granted, he was pretty loopy, and suffering from memory loss. A feeling of dread swept over her. _Oh, God_. 

What if one of the things he'd forgotten was their son?


	4. Chapter 4

_Paige was holding his hand_. Walter knew it before he even opened his eyes. Knew it from the softness of her skin, the shape of her fingers, the way her touch both calmed and thrilled him. Knew it from the faint scent of lavender he could detect in the air.

Rolling his head to the side, he expected to see her beautiful face lying next to his. So it came as quite a shock to see her through the railing of a hospital bed. She was asleep, sitting in a chair with her feet propped up on another. A blanket had been draped over her, a pillow wedged behind her head.

Slowly he became aware of pockets of pain in various places of his body, mostly in his lower back and head. Confusing images flashed through his mind; working on Elia's rocket, being locked in the musty room, he and Paige. . .having sex. . . And falling. . . Falling for far longer than it seemed possible. He grew lightheaded, closing his eyes until the dizziness passed.

He must have squeezed her hand because she stirred, rolling over onto one hip so she was facing him. The swell of her stomach stuck out prominently, and he smiled as he imagined their child inside doing somersaults.

"Walter." She said his name in a panicked whisper. "Oh, God." She sat up in her chair, the blanket and pillow falling to the floor.

"Hey, love." He pressed her fingers with his. "I'm okay." He tried to raise himself off the bed but had to lie back down as an involuntary gasp passed his lips. Spasms shot down his legs and he winced.

"You're not supposed to move too much until the swelling goes down," she said, pressing him gently against the mattress. He must have appeared confused because she then explained his injuries to him. ". . .and they said you could be experiencing some memory loss."

Frowning, he let his mind drift to when he first entered the capsule and figuring out Elia's engineers had tampered with his throttle design, the terrifying (yet thrilling) moment he'd realized the rocket was going to launch, making the split second decision to stay. . . He gave his head a shake. After that, things got a bit fuzzy until he woke up while plummeting to earth.

He watched as Paige retrieved her purse and brought out a sheath of papers. "They gave me a list of questions to ask you. . .you know, to test your head." She smiled, but even he could see her anxiety. Was she not telling him everything?

"Okay, fire away," he replied, attempting to relax by folding his hands over his abdomen.

"All right, first question," she said, consulting the paper. "Full name."

"Walter Patrick O'Brien."

"Good." She nodded. "Birthday?"

"24 February 1983."

She glanced up at him in surprise. "Really? I didn't know that. You've never mentioned it before."

He shrugged, then wished he hadn't as his body protested with a sharp twinge. "Not important," he commented through gritted teeth. "I did nothing special to be born, why should it be celebrated?"

"Because it's fun," she stated with laugh,

"It's an inefficient use of time."

Paige rolled her eyes at him. "You big party pooper. You celebrate everyone else's birthday, and Christmas, and Halloween, and. . ."

"Because it makes you happy."

Getting to her feet, she leaned over and kissed his cheek. "What was that for?" he asked, genuinely bewildered.

"Because you're so sweet." Sitting back down, she turned her attention back to her list. "Okay, next item. . . Who's the president?"

"Of which country?" 

She sighed. "Ours, genius." 

He dutifully answered the rest of the questions before deciding to ask one of his own. "What's the name of the submarine that recovered me?"

She seemed startled by his inquiry before furrowing her forehead. "Uh, Grand-something, I think." Pursing her mouth, she looked pensive for a moment. "The Grandin, that's it. Why?"

"I was thinking we could name the baby after it," he teased.

It was his turn to be perplexed as an expression of relief swept over her face, swiftly followed by one of exasperation. "That's a terrible idea. People will call him Grand."

"What's wrong with that?" He pressed his lips together in an attempt not to laugh.

"One massive ego in the family is enough." She shook her head. "No, just no." Narrowing her eyes, she stared thoughtfully at him. "You're not serious, are you?"

"No," chuckled Walter. 

"You're going to keep doing this, aren't you?" She leaned back in her chair, crossing her arms over the top of her stomach.

"Doing what?" he asked innocently.

"Coming up with unacceptable names."

"Maybe." He grinned at her

"Oh, God, Walter." Her eyes grew damp again as she paled.

"Are you okay?" he asked, immediately becoming concerned. She usually didn't cry when he joked around with her. Laugh, sometimes. Got annoyed with him, most of the time. Tears were a new development.

"I'm fine," she replied, nodding as she brushed at her cheeks. "I guess it just hit me I could have lost you today."

"But you didn't." He patted her shoulder, hoping to comfort her. "I'm just a little bruised and battered but. . ."

"I don't mean just physically." She paused to take a breath. "I mean. . ." Sniffing her nose, she went on, "I was so worried you suffered brain damage. . .due, due to the hypoxia. And I thought you. . .you forgot about the baby. . ."

"Why would you think that?" The fact she was carrying their child was one of the most wondrous events of his life. One he would never forget.

"Because you didn't mention him when you woke up earlier."

"I don't remember waking up earlier." Walter held out his hand, and she took it in hers. "I haven't forgotten anything important," he stated, "and I even recall things I wish I could forget. My brain is fine." 

"Well, Elia is flying in a team of neurological specialists from around the world just to be sure," she informed him. "He's feeling guilty."

"It wasn't his fault." Walter knew who exactly was to blame. Himself. He'd had plenty of time to escape the capsule. But instead he made the decision to stay. He just didn't know if it was his God complex coming into play, thinking he could fix what was wrong and save the rocket. Or if he'd just wanted to fulfill his life-long dream of going into space. Neither reason put him in a good light. 

"I'm fine," he reiterated, seeing her concern. "So when do I get out of here? I want to go home."

"Not until tomorrow. At the earliest." 

"Oh." Out of nowhere, comprehension of what he had almost lost staggered him like a punch to the gut. He should be dead. His odds of survival had been infinitesimal. He would have missed meeting his new son. He wouldn't have been around to help Ralph meet his full potential. And. . . A lump formed in his throat as he thought of how Paige would have been abandoned once again, with two children to raise by herself. Although this time, she had a family to help her. Even so. . . His breathing shallowed as he thought of not being able to be there for her, of not being able to love her for the rest of her life.

"Are you okay?" she asked, worry once again marring her beautiful face. "Should I ring for the nurse?

"No, it's just. . . I don't think I can wait that long to. . .to hold you." He was surprised to see tears forming in her eyes. "What's wrong?"

"I want to hold you too," she replied. "But. . ." She gestured toward the narrow hospital bed then her pregnant belly.

"We can make it work," declared Walter, gingerly sliding to the far side of the bed.

"We'll get in trouble," she said as she lowered the railing.

"Don't care." He braced himself as she climbed in to lie beside him. Wrapping one arm around her shoulders and placing his other hand on her stomach, all his stress and worry drifted away, and he could finally relax.

"I love you," he murmured against her cheek, "and I love our sons."

"Oh, God, Walter." She wiped at her damp face, giving him a watery smile. "I love you, too." She snuggled closer and kissed him lightly on the lips.

They were both asleep, wrapped in each other's arms an hour later when a nurse came in to take Walter's vital signs.

_____

"How's the big brain, Big Brain?" Toby's smart ass remark greeted them as Walter and Paige walked into the garage the next afternoon. Happy and Sly followed the doc to welcome the genius back to the garage.

"It's fine." Walter sounded irritated. And Paige couldn't blame him. Elia's team of specialists had arrived the previous evening and had been poking and prodding and grilling him for hours until he'd finally been released. 

"Let's go upstairs," she suggested, placing her hand on Walter's shoulder as he headed toward his desk. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Happy whap the back of Toby's head as he opened his mouth to make what would undoubtedly be a filthy comment. "So you can lie down," she clarified, shooting the shrink a warning glance.

"I want to get back to work."

"The doctor said you needed to take it easy for at least a week." Paige had to keep herself from laughing at his petulant expression. "Come on, upstairs, mister. It's time for your pill."

"I don't like methylprednisolone," he grumbled. "It makes me jumpy."

Ignoring his protests, she steered Walter up the ramp. Honestly, he was worse than Ralph when he was sick. Or Drew, for that matter, remembering the time the ballplayer had strained his shoulder and she'd had to wait on him hand and foot until it got better. 

She led him into the bedroom. "Do you want to put on your pajamas or. . .?" she asked as she helped him get comfortable on the bed. 

"Can I have my laptop?"

"Yes, you can have your laptop. Pajamas. . .?"

"No, I'm fine." He shifted restlessly, grimacing in an effort to hide how much pain he was truly suffering. 

Paige sighed as she rolled her eyes. _Men_. "Okay. I'll get you a glass of water to take your pill." She paid no attention to his repeated objection to his medication as she headed for the kitchen.

Less than five minutes later, she was handing him the water and the pill, both which he reluctantly took. She stood over him with her arms crossed over her stomach. "What?" Walter asked as he handed her the empty glass. "Are you going to check under my tongue to make sure I swallowed it?"

"Do I need to?" Something told her it was a trick he was quite familiar with, which hardly surprised her.

"No." He dropped his gaze to his lap. "I'm sorry. I don't like feeling like an invalid, but I shouldn't take it out on you." Raising his head,, his apologetic dark eyes made her melt like the chocolate they resembled. 

"No, you shouldn't." She smiled at him, letting him know she wasn't upset with him.. "But you're in pain and you're frustrated and you're worried, and I'm the big bad warden. I get it. Hey," she said, sitting down beside him on the bed, "you want me to send Toby up here? You two could snipe at each other for awhile. Take your mind off your misery."

"No." Walter rubbed his hand over his face. "I don't think I'm up to sparring with him today. Just my laptop? Please?"

"Sure." Leaning over she kissed his cheek. "Be back in a jiff."

As she was unplugging the computer from its charger, Toby strolled up to her. "So, how is he really doing?" he asked.

"He's a little sore, but he'll be okay once the swelling goes down."

The psychiatrist waved his hand. "I don't mean his physical injuries. I'm talking about his head."

"His head is fine."

"So he remembers everything?"

"The important things," she replied, echoing Walter's words. "I. . .I. . .," she began hesitantly, not wanting to tell the shrink too much, "I think he doesn't remember much from when he was in the capsule."

"So none of the hand smoothing and the baby making?"

"I don't think so." She blew out a breath. "And you don't need to tease him about it either."

"Who, moi?" Toby said with mock innocence. Then his face grew serious. "Have you told him about the contractions?"

"Not yet." She gave her stomach a pat. 

"I think you should wait." Before she could say a word to contradict him, he added, "197 has enough to fret about right now. Recovering from his ordeal, the trial. . . If he learns you were in labor. . ."

"False labor," she pointed out brusquely.

The shrink bobbed his head grudgingly. "Okay, false labor. He needs less stress right now, not more. The brain is a fragile organ. Give it too much to cope with, and it'll shut down. He may think he's fine, he may think he remembers the important things." Toby air quoted the last two words. "But until we know for sure, right now what he doesn't know isn't going to hurt him."

"He's going to find out eventually. He comes to all my appointments and we're starting childbirth classes next week. I can't keep something like this from him indefinitely."

"I know." The psychiatrist sighed. "Just don't say anything unless you're sure he can deal with it. Okay?"

"Okay." Paige thought about what the shrink had said all the way up to the loft. As much as she didn't want to admit it, she knew he was right. Walter had too much on his plate right now. She was fine, the baby was fine. . . She needed to keep her stress to a minimum as well. And having Walter constantly hovering over her, being even more overprotective than he already was. . . Hardly the way she'd chose to relax.

And speaking of relaxed, she grinned as she entered the bedroom. Mr 197 was propped up against a stack of pillows, fast asleep. 

As quietly as she could, she set the laptop down on the nightstand beside him. Unable to resist, she ran her fingers through the soft curls spilling across his forehead. His mouth twitched into a smile, but he didn't wake up.

Deciding to give in to her own fatigue, Paige walked around to the other side of the bed and crawled in beside him. That's where the rest of the team, along with Richard Elia, found them fast asleep an hour later.

_____

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In case you're wondering where I came up with the date of Walter's birth, (not out of my bum, I swear!). The real Walter O'Brien was born on 24 February 1975. In the episode "White Out" (episode 2x13), it is stated Walter is 32 years old. "White Out" aired 4 January 2016. So, if his birthday is in February, he would have been 33 about a month later, making his birth year 1983. Plus Elyes was born in 1983. So 24 February 1983 seems like a perfectly reasonable birthday for the fictional Walter O'Brien.


	5. Chapter 5

"Mom! I can't find my graphing calculator!"

"Did you look in your desk?" she called out as she fumbled with the clasp of her necklace.

"Yes, it's not there." Paige heard her son rummaging around in his room and sighed wearily. As if it wasn't stressful enough she and Walter were scheduled to testify at the trial for the militia members that morning, it was also Ralph's first day of middle school. 

He didn't seem to be nervous to be entering what she remembered as a seething hotbed of whacked-out hormones. Which made her even more concerned about sending her baby boy to what could possibly be the three most hellish years of his life.

Her other baby boy kicked her in the kidney, reminding her she was going to have to go through this again in another eleven years. "Someone needs to make a pill to stop kids from growing up," she murmured under her breath as she rubbed her back.

"Who's throwing up?"

"No one's throw. . . Oh. . .my." Paige spun around to see Walter leaning against the doorway, wearing a dark blue suit with a light blue shirt, her favorite red tie, and an anxious expression on his face. He'd unsuccessfully tried to plaster his damp curls to his head, and while he'd also shaved, there was still a patch of stubble around the dimple in his chin. Damn, he looked good enough to eat. 

"Are you okay? I thought you said you weren't suffering from morning sickness anymore?" 

"I'm not." She took a step toward him, a smile growing on her lips. "I'm suffering from something. . ."

"Mmmoooommmm!" Ralph appeared next to Walter. "I've looked everywhere and still can't find my calculator."

"You put it in your backpack last night," said the older genius, looking bewildered as he glanced from mother to son. "So you wouldn't. . .forget. . .it. . ."

"Oh, crap, I forgot." The youngster facepalmed himself.

Paige overlooked her son's crude language, saving that battle for another day. "Honey, it's all right. . ."

"No, it isn't," he cut in. "Everything's going to be different. Most of my friends are going to other schools. I'll have to start all over again."

"Hey, buddy," Walter said as he knelt down next to the anxious boy. "It's okay to be nervous. Change is hard, even for geniuses. Especially for geniuses." He patted Ralph on the shoulder. "Just follow the path that makes you the most comfortable. But don't be afraid to step out of your comfort zone once in awhile. You'll never know what new experience will change your life for the better. Okay?" He glanced up at Paige, flashing her a hesitant smile.

"Okay." Ralph threw his arms around Walter, giving him a quick hug. "I better go finish my breakfast," he said before darting away.

Middle schoolers weren't the only ones dealing with whacked-out hormones. Not only were hers already running rampant because of how attractive Walter looked, his fatherly demeanor towards her son kicked them up another notch.

"You're looking very hau. . . uh, handsome," she said, eyeing him up and down once again. Handsome was an understatement. It was taking all her resolve to keep from pushing Walter onto the bed and slowly removing every sharp dressed stitch of clothing from his body then. . . 

"You look beautiful." His compliment startled her from her lusty daydream. She felt like a beached whale, but she knew he was being sincere. The love she saw shining in his eyes told her he meant every word of it. 

Glancing down, she held out the sides of her navy blue sailor dress. "All I need are golden ringlets and a lollipop," she muttered. 

He frowned, his confusion plain. "Why would you need those?" 

"Don't tell me you've never heard of Shirley Temple?" Paige stared at him in disbelief.

"No. Who is she?"

"You really don't know?" He shook his head. 

She explained to him who the actress/ambassador was as she slipped on her shoes. "We need to get going or we're going to be late."

"Maybe if we are, they'll reschedule your testimony." Walter stepped aside so she could waddle out of the bedroom.

"I doubt it," she said, inhaling deeply. The President was testifying first, via a live feed from the White House. Then it was her turn. A fact Walter had been vehemently against. But no matter how much he argued he should go first, the prosecutors had stood fast. They wanted to make a good first impression on the jury, and Walter. . . Well, he was an acquired taste, just like his fermented fish. 

"I don't like it," he grumbled.

"I know, sweetie." She straightened out his already straight collar and tie, then put her hands on his shoulders, smiling as he relaxed a little. "Don't worry. I'll be fine."

"We may not be able to see each other for hours." Worry reappeared in his eyes. "What if you need me?" He reached out and touched her belly. 

She raised herself up on her tiptoes, sliding her fingers up his neck and into the curls brushing his shirt collar. His eyes widened as he slipped his arms around her, dropping his gaze to her lips. "Walter, I'll always need you," she murmured as he lowered his head.

"Mom!" A small growl escaped Walter's throat as her son's frantic voice interrupted their kiss. "I spilled some milk!"

She groaned her own displeasure. "Some probably means half the jug," she said with a sigh. After giving Walter a quick peck on the mouth, she pulled away. "Everything's going to be okay," she reassured him.

She could tell by his expression he wasn't convinced. And to tell the truth, neither was she.

______

Walter realized he shouldn't have turned down Cabe's offer of a Homeland escort the moment he and Paige arrived at the federal courthouse. Not only was the parking lot nearly at capacity, the front entrance of the building was littered with reporters and camera crews.

"Oh, God." Paige's panicky words drew his attention, and he took in her pale countenance and frightened eyes. Grasping her hand, he gave it a squeeze. 

"There has to be another way in," he suggested before opening his car door.

"There's probably news people stationed there too." She was biting her lip as tears threatened to spill.

With a deep sigh, he exited his Malibu and walked around the rear of the vehicle to her side of the car. She held out her hand and he helped her out. "This is my fault," he said. "I should have realized we would encounter a media circus, considering the President is involved."

"I think it still would have been newsworthy without him." A little sob escaped her as she glanced up at him, and he could see how unnerved she was. Probably because he felt the same way. Sliding his arms around her, he awkwardly patted her back in what he hoped was a reassuring manner.

"We'll get through this," he declared. Whether or not they'd be unscathed was entirely a different matter. Giving her one last caress, he pulled back. "Ready?"

Paige gave him a wobbly smile as she reached for his hand. "As I'll ever be."

They made their way across the parking lot, unnoticed until they were about a hundred meters from the courthouse. The pressure on the hand Paige was holding increased as microphones and cameras were thrust into their faces. Walter tried to carve a path through the press while simultaneously shielding her from the barrage of questions, most of the which seemed to be directed at her, and mostly about her pregnancy.

"Miss Dineen? When are you due?" "Who's the father?" "Is it true you're not sure who's the daddy?" "Is it a boy or a girl?" "They say it was consensual." "When are you two getting married?"

Beside him, Paige tensed up for a moment before making a misstep and stumbling. Grabbing her arm, he kept her from falling as a microphone clipped him in the chin. A twinge of pain shot through his barely healed back when he was shoved from behind. "Just ignore them," he whispered into her ear, wrapping one arm around her and using the other to ward off the news teams.

His breathing and heart rate both accelerated as the mob of journalists kept closing in around them, shouting in their faces, jostling them, touching them. . . He could hear Paige whimper as she clung to him, could see the fear in her eyes. His brain was in danger of shutting down, unable to process the almost feral enthusiasm of the reporters. Someone pushed him again, knocking him off balance, and he turned to confront them, his fists clenched. . .

"Homeland Security! Back off, or you'll be charge with witness tampering." 

Relief filled Walter as the familiar bark of Cabe's voice boomed out over the crowd. The agent, followed by another man also wearing a dark suit and sunglasses and flashing a badge, pushed their way toward him and Paige. 

"You two, follow me," he instructed as the other agent circled behind them, clearing enough space they could climb the courthouse steps unimpeded.

"You really can't arrest them witness tampering, can you?" asked Paige, looking over her shoulder.

"No," the older man grinned, "but they probably don't know that." He gave Walter a nudge. "Come on, trial starts in a few minutes. Don't want you guys to get charged with contempt."

Cabe and the other agent ushered them inside the building, down a long hallway to an elevator. As they waited for the car, Walter turned to the Homeland agent. "I should have accepted your offer to escort us," he said, glancing at a still shaken Paige. "I had no idea they would hound us like that. Come to think of it," he began as he narrowed his eyes at Cabe, "why haven't they been bothering us before now? We're not exactly hard to find."

The agent cleared his throat, and Walter caught a glimpse of guilt in his eyes. "Because there's been a round-the-clock detail staking out the garage. . .and the condo."

"Why would there be a need. . ." Paige's words trailed off as she must have reached the same conclusion Walter had.

"We've been threatened, haven't we?" He stared at Cabe, daring the older man to contradict him.

"Yes," the Homeland agent stated unflinchingly. "An indirect but credible one. It was thought best you weren't informed unless they become more overt. You were still recovering from your rocket ride and she's. . ." He gestured toward Paige's pregnant belly. "You both need less stress in your lives, not more."

Paige let out a horrified gasp. "Oh, God, what about Ralph?" It's his first day of. . ."

"There's been a team assigned to his school." Cabe patted the liaison on the shoulder. "He'll be all right, kiddo. Well, as all right as. . ." Whatever he'd been about to say was interrupted by the arrival of the elevator.

Walter's lips tightened with both anger and concern as he stepped onto the lift. He didn't like being kept in the dark, especially when it came to protecting Paige and Ralph and the baby. The thought any of them could have been injured, or worse, because he didn't know they were in danger. . .

Paige's soft hand uncurled his fisted fingers before giving them a squeeze. He looked over at her, and she smiled at him, a smile he guessed was suppose to reassure him but fell short of the mark. The rest of the ride to the third floor was quiet except for the whine and clanking of the elevator. 

They were ushered into a room across the corridor from the courtroom. "Mr O'Brien, Ms Dineen, so glad you could finally grace us with your presence." The federal attorney, Ms Lee, greeted them in a tone Walter was fairly certain was sarcastic. 

"Sorry," he mumbled, vaguely aware there were other people in the room. 

"I thought I instructed you two to arrive separately."

"No, you said you thought it would be a good idea if we did," Walter pointed out. "Driving two cars would have been inefficient, not to mention bad for the environ. . ." Paige whispered his name as a warning, so he let his explanation dwindle down to silence. 

"Listen to me carefully," the attorney said, narrowing her gaze at them as they sat down. "As of this moment, no discussion of this case nor your testimony will be permitted. If you need to use the facilities, you will be escorted by a bailiff. All cell phones will be turned off and turned over to the bailiff." She droned on, going over information she'd already imparted during their witness prep.

Walter squirmed in his seat. It was like being trapped in school all over again, with too many constricting rules and regulations to follow. Except now he didn't have to worry about getting beat up by bullies at lunch, the stakes were much higher. He had a family to protect, it wasn't just about him anymore. 

He heard his name at the same time Paige nudged him in the ribs with her elbow. "Yes?"

"Repeat back what I just said." She twisted her lips smugly, thinking she'd caught him not paying attention.

He grinned back just as arrogantly. Her triumphant expression slowly dissipated as he reiterated her instructions word for word. She'd obviously never dealt with someone with an eidetic memory before.

"That's enough," she stated, cutting him off before he could finish. Consulting her notes, she withdrew a piece of paper and placed it on the table. "You'll be called to testify in the order listed here."

Ms Lee scanned the room. "We have an airtight case against these defendants. Convicting them should be a slam dunk," she announced, and Walter grimaced at the sports analogy. "Anything less than guilty verdicts on all counts will be unacceptable." She rested her eyes on Walter as she spoke. "Do not screw this up."

With that, she marched out of the room, closing the door behind her. Walter glanced over at Paige, who was looking back worriedly at him. He reached out for her hand, needing her touch to calm him.

He wanted the militia members put away as badly as Ms Lee did. Maybe even more so. They weren't a threat to her happiness like they were to his. He had no intention of screwing up and letting any of them walk free.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've only ever attended one trial and I was there as a juror. Most of my knowledge (or lack thereof) comes from watching TV shows and movies. Any and all errors are mine.

"Paige Dineen."

The sound of the bailiff's voice jolted her from her drowsy thoughts. Under the table, Walter's hand squeezed hers, and she glanced up to see the worry in his dark eyes. Getting to her feet, she didn't know if the fluttering in her stomach was from nervous butterflies or the baby kicking or perhaps a little of both.

Walter stood up as well, unexpectedly enveloping her in his arms. She melted into him, drawing on his strength, sending him hers. He didn't say anything, probably couldn't say anything. Standing there, in his embrace, she'd never felt safer.

"Sir, please step away," the bailiff said as he placed his hand on the holster hanging from his belt.

"I have to go," she told Walter as she pulled away. "I'll be all right." He looked as unconvinced as she felt as he sat back down in his chair.

With one last glance over her shoulder, Paige reluctantly followed the bailiff from the room. She could have sworn her feet had been encased in concrete blocks, each footstep heavier than the last as she was led to a bench just outside the courtroom. 

"If you'll wait here until they're ready for you, ma'am." 

It seemed like she'd barely been seated when the door next to her opened and she hear her name being called again. She grew queasy as she walked down the aisle to the witness stand, sensing everyone's eyes were trained on her. She protectively covered her stomach as a cramp rippled through her.

_It's just nerves. Just relax. Just breathe. It's just nerves_. Repeating that lie got her to the front of the courtroom where another bailiff ushered her to the enclosed box next to the judge. In less than two minutes, she was sworn in and seated.

Ms Lee rose from her chair and in an agonizingly slow walk, made her way to stand in front of Paige. "Ms Dineen, in your own words, can you tell the court of the events of January 28th, 2016?" she said in a tone Paige deemed as being a little too melodramatic.

Paige started to nod her head, then remembered the attorney's admonishment to speak her answers out loud. "Yes," she began, disliking the quiver in her voice. "I-I received a phone call from Walter. . .uh, Walter O'Brien"

She went on to describe arriving at Wildecliff Manor, meeting the President, the militia members taking them hostage, how they were going to kill her and Walter if the government didn't meet their demands. Closing her eyes, Paige exhaled slowly. The easy part of her testimony was over. 

"And are any of these alleged kidnappers in the courtroom today?" asked Ms Lee.

"Yes." Paige pointed at the group of five people sitting at the defense table. "The man in the center, the man to his left, and the woman." Mary Jo, the woman who had been kind to them. . . The woman she was supposed to help put behind bars.

"Let the record show the witness has identified Larry Talbot, Donald Brady, and Mary Jo Stein." Ms Lee turned to Paige again. "Please continue."

"Uh, they left us alone for several hours, and then brought us some food." Paige took a deep breath. "That's. . .That's when we learned there was a camera in the light bulb. After they left. . .Wal. . .Mr O'Brien tore it out of the ceiling and then. . .and then. . .they came back and. . ." 

"And what, Ms Dineen?" the prosecuting attorney prompted.

"They. . .They beat him. Two men. Then. . .Then. . ." She glanced over to the row of defendants, staring into the eyes of the man who'd broken Walter's ribs and left him to die. "Then another man came and. . .and punched Mr O'Brien twice. Then he threatened to r-rape me then kill me while. . .while Walter watched."

"And can you identify the men who assaulted Mr O'Brien?" Ms Lee's question drew her away from the distressful images which had been haunting her nightmares for months.

"Yes." Once again she pointed out two of the men.

"Let the record show the witness has identified defendants Derek Kilkenny and Brian Gray." Once again, the attorney urged Paige to go on.

As much detachment as she could muster (although underneath her calm, nausea swirled in her gut), she recounted how two of the militia men had held a knife to her throat and attempted to rape her. She saw Ms Lee frown at her, knew she was reciting the facts as if she was reading them from a list. One of the many ‘don'ts' on the attorney's list. But she didn't care. She understood now why Walter often found comfort in reeling off facts and figures. She would have been a blubbering mess otherwise.

She was instructed to indicate the two men, which she did as swiftly as possible, avoiding any eye contact. Larry Talbot and Brian Gray were announced as her attackers.

"Thank you, Ms Dineen. That's all the questions. . ."

Paige cut in to Ms Lee's dismissal. "Wait, I want to say something. . ." she began defiantly. She'd butted heads with Attila the Attorney during their pre-trial meeting about speaking on Mary Jo's behalf. The other woman had risked herself, _was_ risking herself for her and Walter. Paige believed she deserved some leniency. Ms Lee did not.

"That's all the questions I have for now, Your Honor," said the attorney to the judge through gritted teeth. "I reserve the right to redirect."

The defense attorney then approached Paige. "I see congratulations are in order, Ms Dineen," he said with a smirk. "When are you due?"

"Objection. Irrelevant."

"I beg to differ, Your Honor. Ms Dineen's pregnancy is relevant to this case."

The judge overruled Ms Lee and the other attorney repeated the question. "October 20th," Paige replied.

"So you became pregnant about. . . Correct me if my math is wrong. . . A little over seven months ago?"

"Yes."

"Isn't that how long it's been since you were allegedly taken hostage?"

"Yes." Paige squirmed in her seat as the baby tap danced on her bladder. 

"And do you know who the father of your child is, Ms Dineen?

"Objection." Ms Lee raised her hand again. "May I remind the court that Ms Dineen's sexual history is not on trial here today."

"Your Honor, if I'm allowed to pursue this line of questioning," said defense attorney "you'll find it is an extremely relevant part of my clients' defense."

"I'll allow it, Mr McKenzie," said the judge with a nod. "For now. You may continue."

The attorney turned and leered at Paige again, turning her already roiling stomach. "Do you know who the father. . ."

"Yes," she interrupted. "It's Walter. . .Mr O'Brien."

"Are you sure?" The slimy lawyer strutted over in front of the jury. "A man was seen leaving your apartment the morning you were allegedly taken hostage. Several hours later, another man appeared and you left with him."

"That was Walter," she said. "I mean, Mr O'Brien."

"Which one?"

"The one who came to pick me up."

"And the man who stayed over night?"

"He's my ex. . .boyfriend, Drew Baker. He's the. . .the father of my son. . .Ralph. He was in town. . . He's a baseball scout, and he came to town to check out some prospects and spend time with. . .Ralph. . ." She let her words drift off as she caught a glimpse of Ms Lee's frown and slight head shake. A signal she was imparting too much information.

The defense attorney smiled smugly. "I see. So he was strictly there to see his son, not you. You didn't sleep with him?"

"No!" Shaking with outrage, she added, "Of course not. He was just there for Ralph."

"And Mr O'Brien, did he know about your ex-boyfriend's visit?"

"Objection!" This time, the prosecuting attorney got to her feet. "What Mr O'Brien knew or didn't know in this situation is the very definition of irrelevant."

"Sustained." The judge glanced pointedly at the defense attorney. "You need to keep to the pertinent facts."

"Sorry, Your Honor." McKenzie walked back over to stand in front of Paige. "Why did Mr O'Brien pick you up that day, Ms Dineen."

"We're government contractors for the Department of Homeland Security,"she said. "We had a case."

"A case? What kind of case?"

"We were only told it was a Wi-Fi issue at Wildecliff Manor," Paige replied, biting her lip as that day's events swirled around inside her head. 

"And what was your part in this case? Are you an IT expert?"

"No. I'm the company liaison. I was there to, ah, assist Walt. . .Mr O'Brien."

"And Mr O'Brien is your boss? You work for his company?"

"For Scorpion, yes."

"But it's his company? He's your boss?"

"Yes."

"Did you have sex with him on the day in question?"

"Objection, Your Honor!" Ms Lee looked angry enough to breath fire. "This is. . ."

"A totally relevant question." With a pound of his gavel, the judge addressed Paige. "Answer the question, Ms Dineen."

"Yes." She dug her teeth into her lip to keep from gasping out loud as a contraction rippled through her and whispers rippled through the courtroom. _It's just false labor. It's just stress_. She had a pretty good idea where this line of questioning was going and she didn't like it. 

"Where you and Mr O'Brien in a relationship?"

"We are now," she said defiantly.

"But you weren't then?"

"No, not really. We were friends slash professional colleagues."

"Did Mr O'Brien, as your employer, coerce you or force you into having sexual relations with him?"

"What?" Paige sat in stunned disbelief. He thought Walter raped her? That was so far from the truth, it would have been laughable if the situation wasn't so serious. If anything, she was the one who had gotten the ball rolling. Walter had been the one who'd hesitated. "No," she managed to choke out. "It was mutual."

"So you consented to have sex with him?"

"Yes." Warmth spread over her face as she remember how wonderful it had been between them. She glanced down at her bulging stomach, unconsciously stroking it as their son wiggled about inside.

"Did you also consent to have sex with the defendants?"

Whipping her head up, she stared at the lawyer. "No," she snapped indignantly.

"That's not true, is it?" the defense attorney drawled. "You agreed to have intercourse with both of them."

"They were. . .they were holding a knife to my throat and threatening to. . .to kill Walter if I. . .I wouldn't let them. . ." A spasm tightened her abdomen and her vision became blurry. Oh, God. . .

"Allegedly."

"Allegedly what?" Paige glanced up at her tormentor, who look like a cat who just ate a canary.

"They were allegedly holding a knife to your throat and allegedly threatening to kill Mr O'Brien."

"This is what their _alleged_ knife did to me," she shouted furiously, pointing at the scar on her jaw as her stomach convulsed. "They were going to kill Walter if I didn't. . ." A sob tore through her.

The judge banged his gavel. "Ms Dineen, you need to calm down or you'll be removed from the courtroom."

Shaking from both fear and anger, Paige took the tissue offered to her by a nearby bailiff. Oh God, she needed Walter. Just to hold him in her arms, to feel safe and sane again. But he was still sequestered with the other witnesses, she wouldn't see him again until after his own testimony.

Mr McKenzie approached the witness stand, his hands on the lapel of his jacket. "Let me ask you again, Ms Dineen. Did you consent to have sex with Mr Talbot and Mr Gray?"

She tried to dry her tears, attempting to buy time to compose herself. "Ms Dineen, you need to answer the defense's question," urged the judge. "And just a reminder, the penalty for perjury in federal court can be a fine plus up to five years in prison."

Closing her eyes, she didn't even want to think of having her baby in prison. . . or even going to prison in the first place. 

"I'll ask again, Ms Dineen. Did you agree to have sex with the defendants?"

She nodded, unable to get the words past the huge lump lodged in her throat. "Speak up, Ms Dineen," admonished the judge. 

"Yes," she whispered. Another contraction flickered through her as she hung her head.

"No further questions, Your Honor." McKenzie walked back to his chair, a smug smile on his face.

"Your Honor, I would like to redirect." Ms Lee got to her feet, angrier than Paige had ever seen her before. Which was understandable, considering the bombshell that had just been dropped on the other woman. The judge nodded, and the attorney approached Paige.

"Ms Dineen," she said through gritted teeth. "When you gave your _alleged_ consent, a knife was _allegedly_ being held to your throat?"

"Yes." 

"And the defendants _allegedly_ threatened to kill Mr O'Brien?"

"Yes. One of them punched him when I. . .when I didn't agree right away."

"So you would say you were under duress at the time you _allegedly_ gave your consent?"

Paige sniffed as another tear rolled down her cheek. "Yes, I was protecting Wal. . .Mr O'Brien."

"No further questions, Your Honor." Ms Lee glared at the defense as she went back to her table.

The judge cleared his throat. "You may step down now, Ms Dineen."

She awkwardly stood up, a bailiff giving her a hand. "I need to go to the bathroom," she whispered to the woman. 

"This way." The bailiff led her out of the courtroom the same way she'd entered. 

"Paige." She lifted her head to see Walter rising to his feet. His eyes swept over her before darkening with a mixture of concern and fury. 

"Walter." They lunged toward each other, heedless of all the warnings of no contact until they'd both testified. A sharp tug on her arm nearly spun her around and she could see he was being similarly detained.

"Paige! Are you okay?" he asked, his voice rough with emotion. She tried to nod but he was struggling with the bailiff dragging him into the courtroom. He shouted her name one last time before disappearing behind the closing door.

_Oh, God_. A contraction ripped through her, strong enough to make her cry out. 

"Are you all right, ma'am?" asked the bailiff who'd escorted her to the hallway.

"I just need to go to the bathroom," she lied, repeating her earlier request.

The woman pointed down the corridor. "First door on your left." She eyed Paige warily. "Let me know if you need anything."

Paige gave a short laugh despite the tears running down her face. She doubted they'd let her have what she needed at the moment. Because what she really needed was Walter.


	7. Chapter 7

Paige headed straight for the bathroom, where she locked herself in a stall. After relieving herself, she sat for several minutes, silently sobbing into the now sodden tissue she'd been given. Her contractions were subsiding despite the fact her stress level hadn't lessened.

Oh, God, she'd forgotten she'd agreed to. . .consented. . . She'd only done it to keep them from killing Walter, for the greater good. A phrase she wished she'd never heard of. And she couldn't understand how Walter could seemingly invoke it so casually. It had nearly destroyed her to do so.

Pulling herself together, she exited the cubicle and waddled over to the sink. A glance into the mirror made her wince. Her face was splotchy and her mascara had streaked down her cheeks. Blood welled up from where she'd bit her lip too hard. 

Pulling a handful of paper towels from the dispenser, she dampened them under the faucet. The cool water stung her eyes before it began to soothe them. She dabbed at her lip, flinching as it burned.

A woman entered the restroom. She appeared to be in her late 40's, early 50's, with grayish blonde hair and wearing a polyester jacket and skirt in a pale pink. Paige remembered her grandmother owning a similar outfit. 

"You slut."

What the hell? Paige had never laid eyes on this woman in her life and she was stunned by the venom in her voice. She tossed the wad of paper towels into the trash before heading for the exit. The woman blocked her way.

"You and your sinful ways led my poor Larry astray," the woman snarled. "He's a good God-fearing man. He'd be a faithful husband if whores like you would stop luring him into temptation."

The woman paused, taking a menacing step toward Paige and sneering, "You better pray nothing happens to you. . .and your children if he's not acquitted." She stared at Paige's round belly with a sour look of disapproval.

Paige gasped as the woman spun around and stalked out of the bathroom. _Oh, God_. She wrapped her arms over her stomach, panic nearly crippling her at the thought of harm coming to the baby. . .or to Ralph. Oh, God, Ralph. . . 

"Dammit," she mumbled as she reached for her phone before remembering she'd left it with the bailiff in the witness room. She hurried out into the hallway, glancing around for a familiar face.

"Hey, kiddo, are you okay?" Relief filled her as she recognized Cabe's voice. It was short-lived as she remembered why she was glad he was there. 

"I need to call Ralph," she said frantically. "A woman. . . She threatened. . . Ralph, the baby. . ."

"Whoa, whoa, slow down, sweetheart.." The agent put his arm around her shoulders and guided her to an nearby bench. "Take a beat then tell me what happened."

After she'd taken a couple of deep breaths, she told Cabe about her encounter with the woman in the bathroom. "I think she was one of the. . .one of the defendants' wives. I need to make sure Ralph's okay."

"Let me contact the team assigned to his school," said the Homeland agent. He patted her on the arm. "I'm sure he's fine."

"Oh, God, Cabe. . ." Whatever she'd been about to say was drowned out by an outburst from inside the courtroom. 

"If you want to worry about someone," the agent said with a shake of his head, "you should worry about Walter."

Paige bit her lip as she stared at the closed doors as several people were shouting over each other on the other side of the wall. What the hell was going on in there?

_____

"Your Honor, may I have a moment with my witness please?

Walter stopped struggling against the bailiff who had been dragging him into the courtroom when he heard Ms Lee's request. The judge must have agreed because he was led to the prosecutor's table.

"Sit down," she snapped, the expression on her face telling him he was in serious trouble. "What the hell was that all about?" she hissed.

Closing his eyes, he once again saw Paige's tear streaked pale face. What had they done to her? It had been apparent to him she wasn't all right. . .that she needed him. . . Probably as much as he needed her. 

"Nothing. Misunderstanding," he lied.

She scrutinized him like she knew he wasn't telling the truth, but decided to let it pass. "Ms Dineen will be fine. You need to calm down and worry about yourself," she said in a tone which made it sound like it wasn't a suggestion. "Do you think you can do that?"

Gritting his teeth, he nodded, not trusting himself to say anything. 

"Good." She got to her feet and indicated he should do the same. "Your Honor, I would like to call Walter O'Brien to the stand," Ms Lee announced as he was escorted to the witness box and sworn in.

The prosecuting attorney let Walter do what he did best - state facts. He started his testimony with Cabe assigning them with the case, ending with Toby and Happy rescuing them. There were a few facts he glossed over, deeming them private and no one else's concern. Ms Lee seemed pleased with his performance, giving him a grudging smile as she sat back down.

"So, Mr O'Brien," the defense attorney drawled as he shuffled through a stack of files in front of him. "Is it true you have an IQ of 197?"

"Yes, it is." 

"So are you the smartest man alive or something?"

"No, I'm currently the 5th smartest person in the world."

The lawyer chuckled. "In your earlier statements, you described your alleged injuries as life threatening."

"Yes," he replied, taking an instant dislike to the man, whom he was certain was the person responsible for making Paige cry. 

"According to your medical records," the lawyer said, holding up a folder, "you were unconscious when you arrived at the hospital. And according to your doctors, you claimed you were asleep or unconscious for large periods of time during your alleged ordeal."

"I was conscious for the important incidents." Walter gritted his teeth at the attempt to poke holes in his testimony. "I remember being taken hostage, being threatened, being beaten. . ." He pointed at two of the defendants . "I remember those. . .bast. . .m-m-men. . .trying to. . .to rape Paige. . ."

"Paige? You mean Ms Dineen?"

"Yes." Glancing over at the prosecutor, he noted her frown at his slip. But calling her ‘Ms Dineen' didn't seem right. He'd never thought of her as anything but Paige from the moment he'd met her.

"Did you know another man had stayed at Ms Dineen's apartment the night before the alleged events?"

"Objection, Your Honor. This question is as irrelevant now as it was during the previous witness's testimony."

"Overruled." The judge banged his gavel. "Earlier it would have been hearsay. Answer the question, Mr O'Brien."

"Yes, I was aware of Pai. . .uh, Ms Dineen's houseguest." He hadn't liked Drew staying with her then and time hadn't changed that fact. "I don't see how this is relevant. It has nothing to do with. . ."

The defense attorney interrupted him. "What was the relationship between you and Ms Dineen on the day in question?"

"We, uh, we were. . ." Taking a deep breath, he tried to clear his mind of his disastrous attempt at dating someone else and the estrangement it had caused between him and Paige. "She was upset with me, and ah, asked for time off, which I granted."

"You're her boss, is that correct?"

"On paper, yes. She and the other team members have equal say in most decisions regarding the company."

"But it's your company. . .Scorpion, right? You are listed as its owner and sole proprietor."

"Yes, but I don't see what this has to do with. . ."

"I'm getting to that," the lawyer cut him off again. "Are you the father of Ms Dineen's child?"

Walter narrowed his eyes at the man. This was the second time the defense attorney had abruptly interrupted him, then changed the subject. He was obviously trying to disconcert him, make him contradict himself, throw doubt on his testimony.

"Yes." Once again, pride mingled with a bit of guilt surged through him. He tamped them both down as the pride was unwarranted and the guilt was unreasonable.

"You sound mighty sure of that."

Ms Lee got to her feet. "Your Honor. . ."

"Mr McKenzie. . ."

"Sorry, sir," said the defense attorney, who returned his attention to Walter. "Was the child conceived while you and Ms Dineen were allegedly held hostage?"

Lowering his gaze, Walter nodded as he said yes. He squirmed nervously in his seat, hoping they wouldn't dig too deep into his sexual history.

"Mr O'Brien, as Ms Dineen's employer, did you coerce or sexually harass her into having sex with you?"

He was so stunned by the question, he was at a loss for words. Clearing his throat as he gathered his wits, he croaked out indignantly, "Of course not. It. . .It was mutual. I was. . .I'm in love with her. . . I would, would never. . ."

"A simple no will do, Mr O'Brien." McKenzie turned to the jury and smirked. "So after she had consensual sex with you, did she also consent to have sex with the two defendants you accused of allegedly attempting to rape her?

"She was under duress, they had a knife to her throat." He shuddered as he relived that terrifying moment. "She only agreed because of some misguided intention of keeping them from killing me. I was as good as dead. . ."

The lawyer frowned at him before disrupting him. "You mentioned in your earlier testimony you were allegedly beaten for removing a light bulb from the ceiling. Ms Dineen stated it contained a hidden camera. Is that why you destroyed it?"

Oh, crap. Neither he or Paige had told Ms Lee about the camera. . .and what it had recorded. "Uh, yes?" he replied cautiously, throwing a quick glance at the prosecutor. She looked like she wanted to strangle someone. . .probably him.

"You know," the defense attorney drawled as he glanced over at the prosecutors, "during discovery, we were given copies of the videos from every camera at Wildecliff Manor. Every camera except one, it seems."

Beads of sweat formed on Walter's forehead and he ran his hand over his face and into his hair. Closing his eyes, his breathing growing shallow, he braced himself for more questions he really didn't want to answer.

"Do you know what happened to that video, Mr O'Brien?"

"Yes. I destroyed the original."

"The original? You mean there was more than one copy.?"

Oh, shit. "Yes, I made a copy." He gulped nervously before continuing, "which has since been destroyed as well."

"So you're admitting you deliberately destroyed evidence?"

"I didn't realize it was evidence at the. . ."

"Ignorance is not an excuse, Mr O'Brien," McKenzie declared. "Was there something on that video you wanted to hide? Like perhaps your sexual encounter with Ms Dineen wasn't as mutual as you claim it was?"

"Objection!" Ms Lee jumped out of her chair. "Speculation on the defense's part. Both Ms Dineen and Mr O'Brien have stated under oath it was consensual."

"Your Honor," the defense attorney began, "I. . ."

"Sustained." The judge pointed at Mr McKenzie. "You need to rephrase your question."

"Yes, sir." The attorney turned to Walter. "Why did you destroy the video?"

His whole body flushed with embarrassment. "It contained nothing pertinent to this case," he mumbled. It was true though. There had been no sound, so the militia members' threats weren't audible. His beating and the attempted rape came after he'd torn the camera from the ceiling. 

"I don't think you're in a position to determine that, Mr O'Brien," said the judge. "Answer the question."

Walter lifted his head, staring at the four men and the woman sitting at the defense's table. The leader, Kilkenny he thought his name was, was blatantly leering back at him in a way which made Walter sure the other man had watched as he and Paige had. . .

"I destroyed it because I didn't want these sick perverts viewing m-m-me and. . . Pai. . . Ms Dineen. . ." Oh God, they'd done it again. Taken one of the most beautiful moments of his life, reducing it to something sordid and ugly. 

Gulping for air, he tried to calm himself, but his mind was flooded with pictures of him and Paige, loving each other. . .only to be replaced with images of her shoving him aside and having sex with the militia men. Of all of the recurring nightmares he'd had since the kidnapping, it was the one which disturbed him the most.

"Viewing you and Ms Dineen doing what, Mr O'Brien?"

Turning his attention to the defense lawyer, seeing the nasty grins on the other men's smug faces, Walter's tenuous control on his temper shattered. 

"You know what we were doing!" he shouted, pointing at the defendants. "You fucking bastards watched us!" He rose up out of his chair. Almost instantaneously, two bailiffs each grabbed one of his arms.

Loud bangs resonated nearby, and Walter realized the judge was pounding his gavel and calling out for order in the court. He was thrust back into his seat.

"Another outburst like that, Mr O'Brien, and you'll be held in contempt of court," said the judge. "You already have obstruction of justice and evidence tampering charges hanging over your head."

Walter dropped his face into his hands, breathing harshly as he tried to calm himself. He was in deep shit. And as much as he hated resorting to it, there was only one way out.

Sitting up straight, he turned to the judge. "There is. . .was. . .another copy of the video."

"Is it in your possession?"

"No." He took a deep breath. "I'm not 100% certain of its whereabouts. Linda. . .Linda Merrick may have it."

"And do you know how to contact Ms Merrick?"

"Yes. She currently resides in the California Institute for Women. She tried to kill me about three months ago."


	8. Chapter 8

_"Yes. She currently resides in the California Institute for Women. She tried to kill me about three months ago."_

Walter glanced over at Ms Lee, whose expression made him believe she would like to take a shot at killing him herself. He could hardly blame her, not after having such a bombshell dropped on her. Although she was the one who told him to stick to the pertinent facts, which he had. The contents of the video, in his opinion, had been no one's business except his and Paige's. 

"Mr O'Brien," said the judge, interrupting his musing, "how did Ms Merrick obtain of copy of the video feed?"

With a sigh, Walter quickly skimmed over how he and Linda met. He then explained how the vengeance-minded woman had found the thumb drive before duplicating it for her blackmail scheme. He also described when she'd pumped a couple of bullets into him and left him for dead. . .after confessing she'd been instrumental in the militia taking him and Paige hostage.

"Well, that's quite the tale, Mr O'Brien." McKenzie strutted back to his table. "So this Ms Merrick allegedly told my clients to hold you and Ms Dineen hostage, then kill you?" He chuckled and rolled his eyes at the jury.

"Yes," Walter replied through gritted teeth. "Her confession is a matter of public record."

"In light of this new evidence, Your Honor, I'd like to ask for a continuance until we can view the footage, if possible." The defense lawyer smirked at Walter.

"Granted. And Mr O'Brien, I'm ordering you to be placed under arrest for obstruction of justice and destruction of evidence." 

"What?" Leaping to his feet, Walter glanced frantically at the judge. "No! You can't. . . I already explained. . ."

"One more word, young man, and I'll add a contempt of court charge," the older man added, his irritation plain. "You'll be held until it can be determined if the footage in question is relevant or not. You'd better hope Ms Merrick retained her copy." He banged his gavel and two bailiffs approached Walter. 

Seething with anger and remorse, Walter submitted to being handcuffed without a struggle, since resisting would only land him in more trouble. The video wasn't relevant. The idea of it being viewed in open court. . . It would be humiliating. Heat swamped him as the scene replayed in his head. He'd been hesitant, nervous, awkward. . . Anybody who watched it would immediately know it had been his first time. 

And Paige. . . She'd be mortified. Although she'd been so wonderful and beautiful and. . . The way she'd come apart in his arms. . .it made him ill to think of anyone else seeing what should have been a private intimate moment between the two of them.

He was led out of the courtroom, the judge declaring a recess as the guards steered him through the doors. Across the corridor, he saw Paige and Cabe rise to their feet.

"Walter? What's going on?" the liaison demanded, her voice rising as she spoke. "Why is he in handcuffs? Oh, God. . ."

"Paige." He barely had time to say her name as the bailiffs hustled him past. He heard her call out to him before gasping loudly. Craning his neck to look over his shoulder, he began shouting. "Paige! Please, let me. . . Let me make sure she's okay. Paige!"

"I'll keep an eye on her, son," Cabe announced as Walter was pushed toward a waiting elevator. He got one last glimpse of Paige, her face pale and her eyes wide with pain and panic, her hands clutching her stomach.

Oh, God, she wasn't in labor, was she? He had no idea where they were taking him or how long he'd be there. He needed to be with her, not behind bars. 

Which was precisely where the bailiffs put him, in one of the holding cells down in the basement of the courthouse. At least they didn't resemble a dungeon, he thought flippantly, with their light grey-washed walls and buzzing fluorescent lights.

"It's imperative I contact Paige Dineen," he said as one of the men removed his cuffs.

"Is she your lawyer?" asked the other guard.

"No, she's my. . ." He paused as he considered what she was to him, beside his everything.

"If she's not your lawyer, she can't help you, buddy," the bailiff said with a shrug. Stepping out of the enclosure, he shut the door with a clang before he and the other man walked away.

"Dammit." Walter ran his hands through his hair as fear rippled through him. _What if Paige was having the baby?_ He stripped off his jacket, tossing it on the narrow cot as the walls seemed to closed in on him. _She was only a little over seven months along, it was too soon._ Grabbing at the tie at his throat, he yanked it loose as it became hard to breath. _They hadn't even picked out a name yet._

He began to pace, rolling up the sleeves of his shirt. Realistically, he could be stuck in this cell for hours. Time would be needed to obtain a warrant, do a search, get transcripts of Linda's confession. The thought of Paige going through childbirth without him. . . He didn't even want to contemplate not being by her side.

Footsteps echoed through the hallway, getting louder as they grew nearer. Spinning around, he hurried over and gripped the bars. "Paige?" he called out hopefully.

"No." He sagged disappointedly as Ms Lee strode around the corner, followed by her assistant. "You'll be lucky if you see her for ten to twenty years," she snarled. 

"There's no such thing as luck. . ."

The attorney stuck her index finger an inch away from his nose. "Shut up." Lowering her hand, she continued to glare at him. "Why am I just know finding out this footage? Did it slip your mind? I thought you were a genius."

"I am," he said, although he wasn't feeling like one at the moment. Averting his gaze, he stared at his fingers wrapped around the longitudinal bars of the door. "It's not relevant. . . and you didn't ask. . ."

She let out an exasperated groan. "Listen to me, Mr Smart Ass. _You_ don't get to decide what's relevant and what's not. You made me look like a fool up there."

Walter snapped his head up to look her in the eye. "And that's all you really care about, isn't it? You don't care if we look like fools. Just so you win your case."

She bit off a harsh laugh. "You think you're the first person I've seen having sex on a surveillance tape? Hardly." Crossing her arms over her chest, she shook her head. "And yes, I care about winning. I'm putting bad guys behind bars when I win. Because of you, those assholes upstairs just might walk. Is that what you what?"

"No." He pushed himself away from the cell door, closing his eyes as he prudently pressed his lips together.

"You better hope that Ms Merrick kept her copy," said Ms Lee. "Because I don't think you and your arrogant know-it-all attitude will last very long in prison."

"Paige," he said after a long second. "Is she all right? I need to know. . ."

"She's fine." The attorney waved dismissively at his concern. "Like I said before, you need to worry about yourself."

With that, she turned on her heel and marched off down the hallway. Her assistant just shrugged before following after his boss. Walter moved closer to the door, resting his forehead on the cool iron, not knowing whether or not he should believe the prosecutor's indifferent reply about Paige's condition. 

The possibility he wouldn't be by her side. . . If he went to prison, he'd miss his son's whole childhood, miss helping Ralph reach his potential, never be with Paige again. . . The only way to avoid that scenario depended on Linda hanging on to her copy of the footage. 

_Dammit_. He grabbed the bars at the thought of the video being shown to a courtroom full of people. . . Paige may have initially forgiven him for his voyeurism, but. . . He didn't see how she could forgive him again. Making a copy of the video feed had been a huge mistake which was biting him on the ass for a second time. 

He slammed his open hand against the door in a mixture of fury and frustration. The contact stung his palm but it was minimal compared to the pain constricting his chest. "Dammit," he muttered between frantic breaths. 

He had no idea how long he stayed there, his brain imagining every outcome of his situation, of which a microscopic percentage would end happily for him. It wasn't until he heard the jangling of keys he brought his surroundings back into focus.

Two bailiffs appeared from around the corner, followed by a serious-looking Cabe. "What's going on?" Walter asked.

"You're getting sprung, son," said the agent. 

"They found the footage already?" Glancing at his watch, he noted it was quarter past noon. He'd been certain the legal process would take hours.

"I don't know about that." Cabe watched as one of the guards unlocked the cell door. "We got a case. Convinced the judge to release you on your own recognizance into my custody."

"Where's Paige?" Elation warred with anxiety as Walter stepped out into the hallway. "Is she okay?"

"She's waiting upstairs. Other than being upset about you being hauled away in cuffs, she's fine." The older man didn't seem too concerned and Walter let his uneasiness abate. "The rest of the team is already waiting at the airport."

"Airport?"

"Yeah," Cabe said as they reached the elevator. "A computerized Ferris wheel at a county fair upstate has been hacked. There's a helicopter waiting to take us to Monterey."

"Can't they just override the hack?"

The Homeland agent shook his head. "They've tried. Whoever did it knew what they were doing. It's speeding up and slowing down, but not enough to let the passengers off safely. Happy says the speed variations can't be sustained for much longer because it's fatiguing the integrity of the metal."

Walter had to smile at Cabe's verbatim recitation of the mechanic's observations. "So, not good, huh?"

"Yeah, not good." The older man chuckled as the elevator stopped and the doors opened. "Sylvester said. . ." The rest of the agent's words faded away. Walter's world narrowed down to the woman standing in front of him. 

"Paige." "Walter." They whispered each other's names at the same time as they moved toward each other. Relief surged through him when he wrapped his arms around her and was further reassured when he felt a kick through the layers of clothing between them.

"Are you okay?" His question was muffled as he crushed his face against her shoulder.

"I could ask the same of you," she said, and he heard the hitch in her voice. "When I saw you in handcuffs. . ."

"You two can compare notes later," Cabe cut in gruffly. "We got people counting on us to save their lives."

Paige let out a slightly hysterical giggle. "So no pressure then?" she said as they untangled. She reached for his hand and he grasped it like a lifeline as they made their way out of the courthouse.

_____

Walter noticed right away one of the team was missing as only Happy and Toby stood on the tarmac next to the waiting helicopter. "Where's Sylvester?"

"This bird holds six including the pilot," explained Cabe. "And since you're in my custody, someone else has to sit this one out."

"But. . ." Walter ran his hand over his face. He needed the younger genius to double check his calculations. He snuck a peek in Paige's direction. And if he was being honest with himself, he really, really didn't want her to fly in her condition. Memories of another helicopter and its subsequent crash flooded his mind. 

"He's going to be providing backup at the garage," said the Homeland agent, who must have sensed his unease. "You know how much he hates flying." Cabe then turned to Paige. "And don't worry about Ralph. It's been arranged for him to go to his usual after school sitter, along with his protection detail"

"Thanks." She squeezed Walter's hand. "I'm going to go board the helicopter, I need to sit down," she announced. "You coming?"

"In a second." Turning away, he headed toward Cabe, who was talking to the pilot. He didn't get far when someone grabbed his arm. "What?" he snarled as he spun back around.

"You don't want Paige to come along, do you?" Toby's question was more of a statement.

"No. She's. . ."

"Pregnant. Yeah, I know. It's pretty obvious." The shrink held on to his fedora as the rotor blades began to spin. "We're gonna need her to help calm people down."

"Isn't that your job?"

"In other circumstances, yes," Toby agreed. "But I need to interview and analyze the carnival company's employees while also coming up with a profile of the hacker. I can't do both."

"Dammit, Toby. She shouldn't. . ."

"There are kids on that out-of-control ride, 197," the psychiatrist pointed out. "Do you really want me half-assing this? Beside the fact Paige could use a dose of feeling useful right now instead like a big useless whale."

"She's not a. . ." he huffed defensively before curbing his outrage at the other man's insult. "Fine. Have it your way. But if. . ."

"I am a doctor, you big idiot," the doc interrupted. "She'll be okay. As long as she doesn't experience any more contractions, she should. . ."

Walter's head swirled as the shrink's words trailed away. "What do you mean?" he demanded, his gut churning. "What contractions?"

"Oh, crap." Toby darted his eyes to the interior of the copter. "She never told you?"

"Told me what?" Impatience bubbled up inside him at the psychiatrist's cryptic comments.

"I'm sorry, I can't tell you. Doctor-patient confidentiality." 

"Dammit, Toby," Walter said again. "What. . .?"

"Will you two stop gossiping and get your asses in the chopper?" Cabe yelled. "Now!"

Walter glared at Toby for another moment until the other man climbed aboard. _Contractions_. She'd been having contractions. And on more than one occasion it seemed. And she'd never told him. 

"Dammit," he muttered for what seemed like the hundredth time that day as he followed Toby inside the helicopter.


	9. Chapter 9

"No, absolutely not!" Walter had to yell to be heard over the howling wind and rumbling thunder. "There has to be another way!"

"There is no other way!" Paige shouted back. "We just can't leave them up there. I have to do this."

He stared at her, the rain plastering her hair to her scalp, her damp dress clinging to the swell of her belly. Deep down, he knew she was right. But, dammit, he didn't have to like it. Hundreds of different scenarios flitted through his brain, an overwhelming percentage of them ending with Paige lying bloody and broken on the ground. 

Shaking his head, he shoved the gruesome scenes to the back of his mind. "Okay. Do it," he snapped.

She walked up to him, placing her hands on his chest. Murmuring a barely audible "Thank you," she slid her arms around his neck and kissed him hard on the mouth. "I love you."

"Love you, too," he said, touching her stomach, reluctant to let her go. "Be careful."

"I will."

Walter pushed his dripping hair off his face as he watched the cherry picker lift Paige up into the air. This was one of those rare moments he wished he could believe in a higher power. One who would listen to his desperate pleas to keep her and their baby safe.

_____

**TWO HOURS EARLIER**

Gravel crunched under the tires as the van carrying Team Scorpion to the Monterey County fairgrounds came to a halt. Walter helped Paige out of the vehicle, noticing the carnival midway has been mostly evacuated. A just a few hundred feet ahead, the hacked Ferris wheel still spun out of control, its passengers screaming in terror.

"Steve Harris, fair manager." A man about Cabe's age introduced himself as he approached. Walter wondered if the hot, muggy air or the dire circumstances causing the man to drip with perspiration. "Whatever you need," Mr Harris added, "just let me know."

After thanking the man, Walter assessed the situation as he passed out comms and assignments. Happy headed to the malfunctioning ride, Toby was pointed toward the fair workers, Cabe to coordinate with local law enforcement. 

With a quick squeeze of his hand, Paige walked over to speak to family members who were cordoned off by yellow caution tape into a nearby corner. As he watched her go, his earlier conversation with Toby kept nagging at the back of his brain. 

He hadn't had a chance to confront her with the information the shrink had accidentally let slip. The noise of the helicopter coupled with the lack of privacy prevented him from broaching the subject on the flight north. 

Why hadn't she told him she'd been having contractions? He knew from the research he'd done on pregnancy, she had obviously been experiencing false labor. He just didn't understand why she would keep it hidden from him. 

Someone smacked his arm and he recoiled from the unexpected contact. "Hey, Walt." Happy's voice brought him out of his head. "You wanna come check out the control panel with me?"

"Uh, yeah, sure."

The mechanic grabbed his arm as he started to walk away. "Listen," she began, "I know you've got a lot on your mind lately, what with the trial and the baby and everything. . . But we need you to pull your head out of your ass and focus."

"Is this coming from you or Toby?" he asked petulantly.

"Does it matter?" she countered, letting go of him. "Lives are depending on that big brain of yours. So dump your baggage somewhere else or I'll do it for you. And I can guarantee you won't like where I stick it." With that, she stalked off ahead of him.

Walter sighed wearily as he followed. She was right. He needed to concentrate on solving one problem at a time. Even though they seemed to be piling up at an alarming rate.

Things had to get better, he thought with a shrug. He didn't see how they could get worse.

_____

It did get worse as Walter discovered an hour later as the team regrouped to compare notes.

"I've got bupkiss," stated Toby. "The carnies I've talked to aren't too thrilled about computerized rides taking their jobs, but none of them have the capability to pull off a hack like this."

"I've spoken to some of the people on the Ferris wheel by cell phone," Paige volunteered. "I don't think they're going to be able to hold on much longer."

"Neither is the structure itself," Happy pointed out. "The support struts are starting to weaken. And I can't just cut the power supply. The inertia caused by a sudden stop. . . Those people will become human projectiles. My hands are tied until Walt can override the hack." She glanced over at him speculatively.

Walter raked a hand through his hair. "There's some kind of AI I've never seen before that keeps overwriting my commands. As soon as I break through a firewall, another one pops up in its place."

"Well, the whole damn thing is going to collapse if you can't. . ." Cabe growled. 

"Collapse. . ." Walter muttered under his breath. Dammit, the fix had been so simple he should have figured it out fifty-nine minutes ago. "The firewalls. . . If I can find the. . ." His fingers flew over the keyboard as lines of alphanumeric code scrolled down the screen. "I can collapse them like dominoes."

A few moments later, he'd found what he needed, and with a couple of keystrokes, had overridden the hack and rebooted the programming. "Happy, you should be able stop it now," he said.

"Okay, boss. Come on, dummy." She grabbed Toby and pulled him out of the control booth.

"Good work, son." Cabe patted Walter on the shoulder.

Walter slumped over the panel, wiping the sweat from his forehead, as he mentally cursed himself for not coming up with a solution sooner. Even after Happy's threatening ‘pep' talk, his brain had drifted off into unproductive anxiety about Paige, the baby, the trial. . .

"Hey, Walter." Sly's voice in his ear interrupted his self-berating. "Just received a warning from the National Weather Service. There's a severe thunderstorm heading toward Monterey. They're predicting gusts up to 50 miles per hour and heavy rain with a possibility of dime sized hail."

"How soon until it hits?" Walter hurried out of the control booth, followed by a concerned Cabe and Paige. Looking up, he saw the ominous black clouds moving in from the southwest. 

"Half an hour, tops," the human calculator replied. "Hopefully that will be. . ." His words were drowned out by a metallic screeching. "What the heck is that?" Sylvester shouted over the horrifying sound.

"The Ferris wheel." Walter watched as the ride shuddered to the ear-piercing halt, followed by several popping noises. _Oh, shit_.

He sprinted the short distance to where Happy was standing next to the manual controls. "What the hell happened?" he asked between gasps for air.

"The struts are breaking," she said with an frantic edge to her tone, one which raised the hairs on the back of Walter's neck. Happy rarely panicked. "I calculated the rate of deceleration needed to bring it to a safe stop. My math was spot on. . ." She turned to stare at him as drops of rain began to fall. "Those supports shouldn't have snapped like that . I think the wheel's been sabotaged."

"Dammit." Walter ran his hand over his face before turning to Cabe. "We've gotta evacuate those people now."

The agent nodded. "We've got crews on standby." The older man glanced up again at the darkening sky. "This storm looks like a bad one." The words were barely out of his mouth when a bright flash lit up in the distance, followed by a low rumble of thunder. 

Things were definitely getting worse.

_____

Another half hour later, two fire trucks had parked next to the doomed ride and had begun extracting the passengers. Paige watched as she huddled with anxious family members and friends under one of the midway game awnings. It was providing little protection as the wind kept blowing the rain sideways, drenching them with every gust. 

Jessica, one of the women she'd spoken to earlier grabbed Paige's arm. "When are they going to help my daughters?" she asked hysterically. She pointed to the car at the very top of the wheel, where two girls were trying to restrain a smaller girl.

"They'll be down as soon as possible," Paige replied with a calmness she didn't feel. "The others have to be removed first because of the. . ." A bright flash followed by an almost instantaneous clap of thunder interrupted her explanation. 

High-pitched shrieks could be heard coming from the Ferris wheel. Paige glanced up to see the girls at the top clinging together. "Do they have a phone with them?" she asked their mother, who nodded. Within minutes, she'd calmed the girls enough they were at least coherent.

"Just a few more minutes, Sarah," Paige said to the oldest sister. "Okay?" She looked up again at the three girls, pleased they all seemed to relax a little. Out of the corner of her eye, she noticed Walter walking toward her.

"Okay," came the shaky reply. 

"You've been on your feet for hours," Walter said as he came to a halt beside her. "You should rest."

"I'm fine." She did feel fine. Except her feet hurt. And her ankles. And her back. And she needed to pee.

He frowned at her like he didn't quite believe her. "You'd tell me if you weren't. Wouldn't you?"

"Of course, " she lied as she patted him on the shoulder. "I just need to make sure Sarah, Samantha, and Cassie make it off the Ferris wheel."

She watched as the cherry picker raised a firefighter to the top of the ride. The wind picked up, jostling the bucket and the man inside, and the rain became a bit icier. Walter put his arm around her, drawing her closer. He wasn't any drier than she was, but she still appreciated his warmth.

A scream of terror split the damp air. "Oh, God," Paige whispered when she saw the littlest girl, Cassie, almost fall out of the car in an effort to get away from the firefighter. She turned to the girl's mother, who face had paled.

"I thought she was over it," Jessica mumbled.

"Over what?" Paige asked. 

"She's, she's a foster child. We think she was, she was. . .abused," the woman explained. "Strange men. . .they terrify her." Her eyes were damp with tears. "Maybe if they sent up a female fire. . ."

Paige heard Walter tut impatiently. "There's no time for that, the ride is about to fail." Loud grinding groans came from the Ferris wheel as if to punctuate his statement.

"Let me talk to her." Jessica handed her cell to Paige. "Put Cassie on," she requested when Sarah answered. "Cassie, sweetie, this is Paige," she said as the girl's harsh breathing filled her ears. "We talked before, remember?" 

A faint "Yes" came over the connection. "I want my mommy."

"I know, sweetheart," Paige soothed. "You can be with her if you let the fireman help. . ."

"No!" The girl's shrill yell drowned out a clap of thunder. "No!" In the background, Paige could hear her sisters trying to reason with her. The rest of the team, along with several other officials, had gathered under the already overcrowded awning.

"Maybe if the other two girls come down, the little one will follow," suggested the fair manager.

"No!" cried a voice Paige recognized as the middle sister, Samantha. "We all go together."

"Let me go up," begged their mother. Paige shook her head even before Walter did. The woman was nearly crippled with fear. She'd been letting out little shrieks every time there had been a lightning strike. 

"No," Paige stated. "Jessica, you're too emotionally involved."

"Well, you need to think of something, and you need to come up with it fast," said Happy. "That sucker's about to go."

The oldest girl, Sarah, spoke up then, "Miss Paige, then. Would that be all right, Cassie?"

The little girl must have nodded her consent because Sarah said, "She says okay."

"No." Walter spun Paige around so she was facing him. "You're not going up there. We could send Happy in. . ."

"Oh, yeah, put my woman in danger," Toby protested as he held onto his hat to keep it from blowing away.

"The only person in danger will be you if you ever call me your woman again in public," threatened Happy, raising a fist at the shrink.

"Shut up, both of you!" Walter rubbed the back of his neck as the storm grew wilder. The wheel creaked and moaned, and he could see it swaying violently with every gust. 

"They know me, Walter," Paige said loudly, stroking his arm with her fingers. "I have to. . ."

"No, absolutely not!" Walter had to yell to be heard over the howling wind and rumbling thunder. "There has to be another way!"

"There is no other way!" Paige shouted back. "We just can't leave them up there. I have to do this."

"Okay. Do it," he snapped, shoving the gruesome scenes of her lying bruised and bloody on the ground to the back of his mind.

She walked up to him, placing her hands on his chest. Murmuring a barely audible "Thank you," she slid her arms around his neck and kissed him hard on the mouth. "I love you."

"Love you, too," he said, touching her stomach, reluctant to let her go. "Be careful."

"I will."

Walter pushed his dripping hair off his face as he watched the cherry picker lift Paige up into the air, the slow ascent growing more agonizing with every second. She was only a few feet from the car with the girls when the opposite side of the ride violently tilted downward with an ear-piercing wail.

Panic swept through him as the girls lurched sideways. Paige would never be able to reach them now. Or so he thought. He watched in horror as she leaned out over the bucket, extending her arms. "Grab on!" she yelled. "Hurry!"

"Paige!" His desperate plea went unheeded as she let the smallest girl grasp her wrists, pulling her into the cherry picker. As Paige rescued the second girl, Happy smacked Walter's shoulder.

"She can't get all three of them in that bucket. It's too much weight."

"Dammit." Anxiety bubbled up inside him. The mechanic must have sense his distress because she awkwardly tapped him on the back.

"She'll be okay, Walt. She's tougher than she looks." With that, she dashed over to the fire truck, yelling out advice to the operator as Paige reached for the last, and the largest, of the girls.

Walter realized what was about to happen about a second before it did. The girl's weight was more than Paige could lift and she had to bend too far forward. The bucket began to tip, threatening to send the liaison and the girls tumbling to the ground.


	10. Chapter 10

_The bucket began to tip, threatening to send the liaison and the girls tumbling to the ground._

"Paige!" Her name tore its way out of Walter's throat, even though common sense dictated he shouldn't distract her. But he couldn't stop himself. She was millimeters away from plunging to her death. Something he didn't want to witness as it would be etched into his memory forever. But he couldn't tear his eyes away.

He could hear Happy shouting from what seemed far away. "Lower it! Just do it!" the mechanic yelled as she frantically waved her arms. The lift operator hesitated a moment before complying. The bucket tipped backward, causing Paige to fall back as well, allowing her to pull Sarah off the ride. 

Relief swept over him like a wave. But it was short-lived as the hydraulics on the lift began to whine as the bucket was lowered. "Slow it down!" Happy hollered over the wind and rain. 

Minutes felt like hours before Paige and the girls arrived safely on the ground. The girls' mother ran over to hug her daughters. Walter was right behind her, reaching Paige just as the liaison's legs buckled beneath her.

"Oh, God," she breathed as he crushed her against his body. She was sopping wet, her teeth chattering as she shivered. 

"Are you okay?" he asked, wishing he could offer her his jacket. But he had no idea of its current location, having ditched it somewhere in the courthouse earlier in the day.

"Fine, I'm fine." She hugged him a little tighter before loosening her hold, rubbing her hand on her belly. "He's okay, too," she said. "Kicking up a storm." Her laugh had a slightly hysterical edge to it.

"As much as I hate to break up this touching reunion," Toby said as he approached accompanied by the fair manager. "You two need to get inside."

As if to punctuate his remark, a streak of lightning struck what remained of the Ferris wheel. Sparks flew in the air as the hair lifted off the back of Walter's neck. He helped guide Paige into the main exhibition hall, which was filled with people seeking shelter from the intense weather, crowding around the displays of jams and embroidery. 

Someone threw blankets over their shoulders. Toby grabbed Paige's wrist. "Everything okay?" he asked. "No, uh. . ." He slid a glance in Walter's direction then back at the liaison. The genius narrowed his eyes at both of them.

"I'm fine," she snapped. "Everything's fine." Walter wondered if she was lying, if she was experiencing contractions again but didn't want him to know. 

"Well, your pulse is a little elevated," said the shrink. "You should probably sit down and put your feet up while I rustle up my medical kit." He stared pointedly at Walter.

"Oh, yeah," he replied, searching the area for a couple of chairs. Spotting several behind what appeared to be a judges' table, he hurried over and snatched a pair of them. In a matter of minutes, Paige was seated with her legs propped up on a damp blanket with Toby fussing over her.

Walter scanned the building as he held her hand. People were huddled together in small groups; families, friends. . . One man stood out though. He was standing by himself near a table of baked goods, an odd smirk on his face. "Who is that?" Walter asked the fair manager who stopped by to see how Paige was faring.

"Oh, that's Adrian Hughes," replied Mr Harris. "He's the developer of the Ferris wheel's software. I called him in to help." He glanced over at the man. "Looks like we don't need him now."

Walter had stopped listening. His mind focused on the hack, mentally scrolling through the lines of code. "He did it," he murmured, raising his eyes to glare at Hughes, who twitched guilty. "Excuse me," Walter said, pushing the blanket off his shoulders as he headed toward the other man.

As expected, the man turned his head from side to side then darted to his right, toward the nearest exit. Walter anticipated the move, cutting him off before he could reached the door. Hughes then spun on his heel and headed in the opposite direction. "Stop him!" Walter shouted. "He's the hacker!"

Fifteen minutes later, Hughes was in custody and Walter was rubbing his jaw where the man had punched him. Any pain he felt was numbed by the gratification he received from knocking the other man on his ass.

"I can't believe he'd put people's lives at stake," said Paige as she put her hand on Walter's shoulder. "Just because he thought he hadn't been compensated enough for his program. There were little kids on that Ferris wheel. . ." Her words were interrupted by a sob.

"Greed drives some people to do irrational things," Toby declared. "Like unnecessarily putting others at risk." 

"Well, I'm just glad it's over and we can go home." Paige pushed Walter's hand away from his face, replacing it with her own gentle touch. "It's not broken, is it?"

Now the adrenalin was wearing off, his jaw began to throb uncomfortably. "No, it's fine. I'm fine. Let's go home." He kissed her on the forehead. Going home with Paige sounded like a wonderful end to one hell of a day.

_____

Two uniformed men standing on either side of a nondescript black sedan parked on the tarmac were waiting for them at LAX . Walter recognized them as the pair of bailiffs who had led him out of the courtroom earlier in the day. _Oh, shit_.

Paige must have realized who they were as well because she gasped when she saw them. "Oh, God," she murmured. "Why are they. . .?" He grasped her hand, giving it a squeeze of what he hoped felt like reassurance.

"Walter O'Brien," one of them said as he advanced toward them. "You are hereby remanded to the custody of the US Federal Court."

"Hold on," growled Cabe, flashing his badge. "He's been released to my. . ."

"Been rescinded," said the other bailiff, unhooking a pair of handcuffs from his belt. "By order of Judge Greer."

"Wait. . ." said Toby, coming up to stand next to Walter and Paige. "He's under arrest? For what?"

"Obstruction of justice and destruction of evidence," the officer answered.

"I thought he was a witness, not one of the defendants," said Happy, who looked like she was about to punch somebody.

"It's okay," Walter said before she could. He held out his arms, allowing himself to be cuffed for the second time in the past twelve hours. 

"They can't do this." Paige gripped his shoulder. "Can they?"

"It's a court order, Ma'am." The bailiff shrugged indifferently. "I'm going to need you to step away."

With a shake of her head, she defied the man's request and threw her arms around Walter. "This isn't fair," she whispered between covering his face with kisses.

"Ma'am, I said step away. You're looking at a contempt charge. . ."

"Paige." He half-heartedly tried to push her away, reveling in her touch, yet anxious she would get herself into trouble. His fear materialized as the bailiff grabbed her by the forearm.

"Take your hands off her," Walter snarled as Paige clung to him.

"Or what?" The officer placed his free hand on his holster.

"Okay, let's everyone take a beat," said Cabe as he stepped into the fray. "Paige, do as the nice man asks, sweetheart."

"I'll be okay," Walter murmured as she kissed him one last time before letting him go. He tossed a glance over his shoulder as he led to the waiting vehicle. 

The sight of her clutching at her abdomen tore him up inside. Once again, he hadn't had a chance to talk find out why she hadn't told him about the contractions. . .or tell her about the video feed. The lack of privacy plus the fact Paige had slept most of the way back to Los Angeles had prevented any meaningful dialogue between them. 

Walter closed his eyes as he plopped down on the back seat of the sedan. It was going to be another long sleepless night.

_____

Paige knew her anger couldn't be good for the baby but. . . She was pissed off. She'd been prevented from seeing Walter the previous evening after he'd been hauled back to his cell in the courthouse basement. The security guard had told her to come back the next morning.

Well, now it was the next morning and they still weren't letting her see him. Technically Walter wasn't done with his testimony so the sequester was still in place. She was about to tell the bailiff where he could technically stick his sequester when Ms Lee appeared beside her.

"Ms Dineen. Good. You're already here," said the attorney. "We have a meeting in the judge's chambers in five minutes." She raked her eyes over Paige's swollen belly. "So if you have use the facilities. . ."

"I'm good," Paige cut in, even though she knew she wouldn't be able to hold out for long. "I want to see Walter."

"You will." The prosecutor smirked as she indicated her assistant. "Jason will show you the way. I'll be there shortly."

Paige followed the man down a narrow side corridor until he stopped in front of a door. With a preemptive knock, he opened it. 

"Oh, God, Walter." He rose out of his chair, a lopsided grin on his tired face. Guessing he slept about as well as she had, she took in his rumpled appearance, his wrinkled shirt, his unshaven bruised jaw, his riotous curls. . . Damn if he didn't look even hotter than he had the day before when he'd been looking so sharp. She waddled toward him, sliding her hand up his chest then around his neck. "I missed you so much."

"I missed you, too." He lowered his mouth to hers. She could hear someone clearing their throat in the background, but ignored it. Thankfully, Walter did as well as he kept kissing her, sending shivers up and down her spine. 

"I hate to interrupt," came a male voice full of sarcasm, "but we have a schedule to keep so. . ."

Startled, they jumped guiltily away from each other. Heat burned her cheeks as she saw the judge, Ms Lee, Mr McKenzie, and a couple of bailiffs. Walter's face was bright red as well, she noticed, but there was also something else in his eyes.

"If you will all be seated, we can get underway," announced Judge Greer. Paige sat next to Walter in one of the chairs arranged in a semi-circle in front of the judge's desk. She had no idea what was going on, but had a hunch she was soon going to find out.

"You're in luck, Mr O'Brien," Greer continued. "Ms Merrick did indeed retain her copy of the drive. Now I've viewed the contents and. . ."

His words faded as Paige's head snapped around to glare at the man sitting tensely beside her. He was staring at the floor, his hands tightly gripping his legs. "I'm sorry," he mumbled so softly she could barely heard him. 

The next hour was the most embarrassing she'd ever had to endure. Several portions of the video were fast forwarded, the parts where she and Walter had been talking or sleeping. The rest of it, however. . . She was too mortified to even watch. 

"I think we can all agree there's nothing relevant here," said the judge after he closed the lid of his laptop. "Ms Lee? Mr McKenzie?"

Both attorneys nodded. "Good," said Greer. "Mr O'Brien, the charges against you will be dropped. And if defense and prosecution are satisfied with your testimony. . ." Again, the two lawyers nodded. "Then you are hereby free to go."

Everyone got to their feet then, shaking hands and patting each other on the back. Paige stayed where she was, as did Walter, until the others had cleared the room. McKenzie had glanced over his shoulder at her as he walked out the door, leering in a way which made her stomach turn. 

Neither her or Walter said a word as a bailiff escorted them from the judge's chambers out into the main corridor where Cabe stood waiting for them, a broad smile on his face along with their phones they'd had to leave behind the day before. The agent relayed his relief Walter had been exonerated as he drove them back to the garage. 

Paige groaned as she saw Toby, Happy, and Sylvester at their work stations, their curiosity obviously piqued. She. . .She just couldn't deal with them at the moment. "I need to lie down," she stated before heading up the ramp to the loft. 

Hearing footsteps behind her once she reached the top, she spun around to face Walter. "Why didn't you tell me?" she demanded.

"I didn't have a chance," he countered, guiltily stuffing his clenched fists in his pockets. "It's not much of an excuse, but it's the only one I can offer. I seriously doubt you wanted me to blurt it out in front of the rest of the team."

"No," she replied, "I'd rather a copy of that surveillance feed didn't exist at all."

"I've apologized for my error in judgement. I promised to never do it again. I don't know what else you want me to say." His voice grew louder with each sentence.

The baby chose that moment to give her a hard kick. She rubbed her belly where pain from the short, sharp jab still lingered. "I don't know either," she said.

"You could tell me why you didn't inform me you've been having contractions."

Oh, crap. How had he found out. . .? Reminding herself to kick the shrink's ass later, she said, "It's just false labor. Toby told me to wait until you'd recovered from your rocket ride before I. . ."

"You've been having them for over a month? And you didn't think I would want to know? He raked a hand through his hair. "I have a right to know. If your health is being threatened, you need to. . ."

"My health? What about the baby's? Isn't his important too?" she cut in. 

"Yes, of course, but. . ." The rest of his sentence was left unspoken as her phone rang.

"It's the school," she announced as she answered it. "Yes, this is Paige Dineen," she said to the woman on the phone. She glanced up to see the concern on Walter's face, realizing nothing else mattered as long as he cared about her and her children. 

"Ms Dineen, there is a woman here claiming to be Ralph's grandmother," the woman said. "We don't see her listed here as one of your alternates. . ."

"Oh, God." Paige's cell slid out of her hand and onto the floor.

"What's wrong?" asked Walter, helping her to the nearest chair as her legs gave out.

"Yesterday. . . At the courthouse. . ." Her breath was coming in panicked gasps as she told him about the woman confronting her in the bathroom. 

The room began to spin as her vision grew blurry. "What did she say?" Walter asked, his voice rough with fury and fear as he held on to her shoulders. 

"She said if her husband wasn't acquitted, I'd better pray nothing happens to the baby. . .and Ralph," she said, a sob welling up in her throat as she grasped her swollen abdomen. "And I think she's carrying out her threat."


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I borrowed some scenarios and dialogue from "This is the Pits" (3x10) toward the end of this chapter but once again twisted them to suit my evil purposes.

Walter and Paige stared at each other, the silence broken by the sound of a woman's voice calling out. "Hello? Hello? Are you still there?"

Walter picked the phone up off the floor and held it to his ear. "Don't let her leave. We'll be right there." He hung up then handed the cell back to Paige, who appeared to be lost in thought. "We need to go," he said as he nudged her hand with her phone.

"It's impossible," Paige murmured. "It can't be his grandmother. She's. . ." With a shake of her head, she came back from wherever her mind had drifted. "We need to go," she said, repeating his words.

"Whoa, whoa, whoa." Toby jumped out of his chair as they reached the bottom of the ramp and rounded the corner toward the door. "Where are you going? You just got back. . ." The shrink halted in his tracks. "You're not in labor, are you?"

"No," Walter said. "It's Ralph. We gotta go. . ."

A sob escaped Paige as he led her to the door. "Wait!" Walter huffed impatiently as Cabe came toward them. "What the hell is going on?"

Walter answered as it became clear the liaison couldn't. "Paige said a woman threatened her at the courthouse." He then informed the agent of the phone call from the school.

"And you think this could be the same woman?"

He nodded. "If Ralph's in danger. . ." He took Paige's hand again and stepped forward.

The older man blocked the way. "Neither of you are in any condition to drive anywhere. You're coming with me. Capisce?" Walter knew it would be imprudent to argue. He was exhausted and Paige was on the verge of collapse.

Once they were loaded into his SUV, Cabe tore out of the alley and onto the street, as he communicated with the agents assigned to the boy genius's school. "I thought they were supposed to monitor for suspicious activity," Walter said accusingly.

"Yeah, but it's a middle school, son," the older man said with a chuckle. "The whole damn place is full of suspicious activity."

Not understanding why that would be amusing, Walter glanced over at Paige, who was staring out the window. Reaching over and taking her hand, he gave it a squeeze. "We have to believe he'll be okay."

He wasn't sure if she even heard him but then she pressed his fingers with hers. "I tried so hard for years to keep him safe. . .even when. . .even when our world was falling apart," she said as she absently stroked her stomach with her free hand. "If something happens to him now. . ." A sob choked off the rest of her thought.

"We won't let it," he said, kissing her forehead, wishing he was as confident as he sounded. Once again, the belief _he_ was the person she needed protection from the most entered his mind. It was because of him she and Ralph were constantly in danger. They would be much safer if they'd never met. . . 

He took a breath. It was too late for regrets. Besides being a inefficient waste of time, he could no more abandon her now than he could stop loving her. 

His self-deprecating thoughts were interrupted when the SUV came to a screeching halt as they arrived at the school. He immediately climbed out of the vehicle, then helped Paige disembark. 

As they entered the building, the first inkling middle school was different than elementary school was the locked door leading into the main body of the school. "May I help you?" A man's voice came from the left side of the tiny vestibule in which they were standing.

Walter glanced over at Paige, who opened her mouth then closed it before inhaling. "I got a phone call," she said in a rush. "There's a woman threatening my son. . ."

"And you are?" the man asked calmly. He was wearing a dark blue uniform and Walter spotted the holster on his hip.

"Paige Dineen." She grasped Walter's arm. "Please. . ."

"Who's this?" The guard pointed at Walter. He realized he hadn't changed and was still wearing his rumpled and dirty clothes from the day before.

She threw him a glance, one full of fear and uncertainty, then addressed the other man, "He's. . . He's the dad" as the same time he said, "Walter O'Brien." 

Her words threw him a little. He was the father of the child she was carrying, that was true. But he wasn't Ralph's father. He was curious why she'd said it. Just so he'd be allowed inside? 

The man looked confused for a moment as he flipped through the papers on his clipboard. "Oh, yeah. She's in Principal Price's office." He gave them directions before electronically unlocking the door.

"It's like a prison," Paige commented, echoing Walter's thoughts. 

A receptionist escorted them to the office, knocking on the door before leaving them standing in the hallway. A burst of laughter emitted from the room. Walter turned to Paige, seeing she was just as mystified as he was as the door was opened. 

"Come in," said a man who had to be the principal. A woman with reddish blonde hair sat with her back to them, shifted in her chair to face them.

"Hello, Paige," she said with a cheery smile.

Walter felt all the anxiety drain out of Paige, only to be replaced by something he couldn't name. But nothing could have prepared him for her next words.

"Hello. . . Mom."

_____

"Why didn't you tell me you were pregnant again?" Veronica Dineen was sitting in the front seat of Cabe's SUV as they drove away from the school.

"Maybe because I haven't spoken to you for over ten years," snapped Paige. God, the woman was clueless. "When I remember telling you to never contact me again."

"And I didn't."

Paige glanced over at Walter, who looked so lost and confused she almost giggled. Almost. She let out an exasperated sigh. "Then what do you call this, Mom? Seems like contact to me."

"But I wasn't contacting you. I was contacting Ralph. You didn't tell me I couldn't contact him. I just wanted to see my grandson." The older woman sniffed as if she were holding back tears.

Paige knew better though. Her mother was a master at manipulation, twisting circumstances so she appeared to be the victim and everyone else were to blame for her problems. 

"So, do you know if this one is a boy or girl? A little girl is so much fun to dress up," Veronica nattered on, oblivious to her daughter's growing irritation. "And is this the baby daddy?" she asked, assessing Walter in a way which made Paige's stomach turn. "He's a hot hunk of man, honey," she added in a loud conspiratorial whisper. "If I were 20 years younger. . ." She made a little growl. 

Cabe, who so far had been silent, lapsed into a violent ‘coughing' fit as he turned into the alley. _Oh, God_. Paige knew without looking Walter was mortified by her mother's statement. He'd tensed so quickly she worried he would shatter. 

She didn't know why they were taking her back to the garage. It had been Walter's suggestion, so they could deal with her mother in private instead of the principal's office of her son's school. Where all the administrative staff and a few students could see her dirty linen get aired in public.

"This is where you work?" Veronica asked as she stepped out of the vehicle. She didn't sound impressed and Paige bristled. Walter had worked hard to get Scorpion where it was today and if. . .

"It's not what's on the outside, but what's on the inside that counts," Cabe stated, interrupting her mental indignation. Paige had to stop herself from smiling. The Homeland agent had her mom's number.

But she wasn't so sure about Walter. She narrowed her eyes as she watched him escort the older woman into the building, asking her how long she'd been in town and if she had a place to stay.

_____

"Are you still mad at me?" Walter asked as they walked toward his car a few hours later.

He'd thought they'd settled everything after they'd come back to the garage with her mother in tow. He'd profusely apologized - again - for keeping a copy of the surveillance feed. She'd finally confessed about the Braxton Hicks contractions she'd been having, telling him she should have ignored Toby's advice not to say anything to him.

But she still seemed upset with him. And he thought it could possibly have to do with Veronica. He had suggested she could camp out in the mini Winnie until she could find a more permanent place to stay. And that she could keep an eye on Ralph while he and Paige attended their first childbirth class that evening.

Paige spun around to glare at him. "Why did you say my mom could stay here? It's not a good idea."

"That's what you said about Ray when I. . ."

"Ray is saint compared to _her_ ," she hissed. "And what gives you the right to make decisions about my son?"

The bottom fell out of his stomach as he didn't have an answer. He wasn't Ralph's father or even his guardian. In the public's eye, he was just the guy who'd knocked up the boy's mother. And he didn't know what to do about it.

"I'm sorry I overstepped my bounds. But Sylvester's not available and she is Ralph's grandmother," he pointed out. "I don't understand. . ."

"I know," she said huffing out a breath. "It's just. . .she's not the most trustworthy person in the world, okay?."

"Is that why you cleaned out the petty cash box and told her all the electronics were rigged to explode if anyone other than me unplugged them?"

"Dammit, you weren't supposed hear that." She opened the passenger side door and got in.

"Paige," he said as he slid into the driver's side. "She's your mother. . ."

"Yeah, so?" Snapping her seat belt in place, she glared at him. "You're not exactly on the best of terms with your parents."

"I know. And I regret it." He ran his hand over his face. "They did the best they could and I didn't always make it easy for them either. Things have improved since. . .since Megan. . .but. . ." Things had really improved since they found out they were going to be grandparents. His mother was especially ‘over the moon,' as she put it. 

"I know, sweetie. I know you're trying," she said, smoothing her hand over his shoulder. "But Veronica Dineen has her own wing in the Bad Parenting Hall of Fame. She didn't give a damn about me unless she needed me to do something for her. When she. . .she left for the last time, it killed my father. He loved her so much and she broke his heart."

"I'm sorry," he said. Three years ago, he would have said dying of a broken heart was a preposterous notion. But that was before he'd met Paige. Now he knew it was entirely possible, because if he ever lost Paige. . . "I'll ask her to leave tomorrow."

Paige let out a sigh. "No, she might as well stay. It will be easier to keep an eye on her if I know where she is."

He was surprised by her rather cynical attitude toward her mother. She'd rarely talked about either of her parents. He and the other geniuses had all had difficult childhoods. But he'd always thought Paige's had been of the typical ‘normal' variety. She was such a good mother to Ralph, it was hard to believe hers had been as messed up as any of the rest of them. 

Out of the corner of his eye, he could see her rubbing her hand over the swell of her belly. His breath caught in his throat, his heart starting beating a little faster. A certain part of his anatomy began to stir inappropriately. Which led to his other concern. . . .

_Childbirth class_.

He'd tried to get out of going. Argued he'd read enough books on the subject, including some disturbing medical texts of Toby's. He'd even watched a YouTube video. All to no avail. Paige had refused to listen, telling him that books and videos were fine and good, but would never be better than hands on experience.

So far his. . .perversion. . .centered around Paige. He'd seen other pregnant women and they didn't effect him the way she did. Once glance at her touching her swollen stomach usually did it for him, his libido going up in flames. But the other women had been viewed from a distance and he'd never tried to test his hypothesis whether it was just Paige or if it was proximity which. . .excited him. And now he was on his way to a place when he'd be surrounded by pregnant women. . . 

_Oh, boy_.

_____

"What are these?" Veronica asked, pointing to the boxes piled on the table in front of Ralph.

"Forestry Brave Cookies," he said with a sigh. "I have to sell fifty boxes, so I can get my business badge. We have to buy the cookies ourselves, then recoup our investment."

"How much are you selling them for? 

"Five dollars."

"And how much did you pay per box?"

Ralph screwed up his face. "Five dollars."

"What kind of business are they teaching you?" she asked in an outraged tone. He had to agree with her. The whole point of business was to make a profit. This cookie selling plan taught them nothing. 

She was tapping her finger against her lips as if she were deep in thought. "Remember when you wrote to Grandma in prison about wanting to spend some quality time together?" she said after a few moments.

"Shh. . ." Glancing around the room, Ralph was relieved to see everyone else had left the garage for the day. "Mom doesn't know I've been writing to you and I'd like to. . ."

"Keep it our secret. I know." She then picked up a box of the cookies. "But how about you spend some of that time with Grandma helping you really earn that business badge?"

"Mom won't go for it," he said. "She doesn't like you very much."

"Don't I know it." His grandmother flashed him a grin. "But I'm really glad you reached out to me, Ralph. I want to make it up to her. . .and you." She smiled at him again. "Is there any ice cream around here?"

He nodded. "There's some left over from Sly's birthday party last week. It's just plain vanilla though."

"Vanilla. That's perfect." She spun the box of cookies into the air then caught it. "Where does Walter keep his spices?"

"Not sure he has any," he answered honestly. "He's not much of a cook. Why would we need spices anyway?"

"Because I can hear an opportunity knocking, and we're both gonna open that door," she replied cryptically as she tousled his hair.


	12. Chapter 12

Walter kept his breathing steady and his eyes focused on the white board at the front of the room. So far, so good. It helped he and Paige were one of the last couples to arrive, ending up at a table in the back. They shared it with another man and woman who had shown up even later.

He was grateful he wasn't sitting next to the female half of the pair. Although not too grateful. The male half smelled like a brewery and had no concept of personal space.

"Hey, did you see this" the man said, nudging Walter in the ribs. He was pointing at something on the syllabus they'd been handed as they'd entered the class. Walter picked up his copy and scanned through its contents. 

"Sex During the Third Trimester. What a joke. Amma right, buddy?" The man elbowed him again.

"Uh." Walter wasn't sure how to answer. He and Paige were still intimate several times a week. Were they not supposed to be? Particularly since she'd been having contractions for at least a month, ones he didn't know she'd been having until recently.

"Not that I got much during the second trimester," the man continued. "Plus she's fatter than a pig now anyway. Oink, oink." The man laughed crudely.

Walter snuck a quick peek at the woman beside his obnoxious companion. She didn't seem all that plump, just tired and sad. Paige's belly was a bit larger and just the thought of her pregnant body made him shift in his seat. _Oh, crap_. Maybe he _was_ a pervert.

A woman in scrubs decorated with teddy bears bounced into the room, interrupting his lascivious thoughts. "Hello, everyone, I'm Christina, I'll be your instructor," she announced before launching into an overview of the class. "Okay," she said, "let's go around the room and introduce yourselves, whether or not this is your first child, and due dates." Pointing to a table far to Walter's right, she added, "Let's start with you two."

He noticed, as the others talked about themselves, most of the couples were either married or engaged. When it was finally their turn, Paige glanced at him fleetingly as she squeezed his hand.

"Hi, I'm Paige Dineen," she announced, "and this is Walter, Walter O'Brien. He's. . .He's the father." She rubbed her free hand on her stomach. "I'm. . .I'm due October 20th. This is my second child and his first."

He caught a glimpse of something in her eyes before they darted away from his. Was she upset? Her voice had taken on a tone he recognized when something was bothering her. Had she wanted him to introduce them? He would have, if she had said something.

"Hey." Walter rolled his eyes as the man, who had introduced himself as Donnie, poked him in the side again. "Your first one, huh?" Walter nodded. "This is my third. Got two other brats with my ex." Evidently Donnie wasn't finished with his questioning because he prodded Walter once again. "So you two aren't married?" 

"No," he replied through gritted teeth. 

"Smart man," the guy bobbed his head. "Child support's a pain in the ass, but it's better than paying alimony to a blood sucking bitch." 

Walter was appalled by the other man's attitude toward women. He wasn't surprised Donnie was divorced, only that two different females had seemingly voluntarily procreated with him. It was mind-boggling.

Fortunately the introductions had come to an end and the instructor began talking about birthing plans. Walter quickly grew bored as the material she was going over were subjects he'd already studied. Closing his eyes, he recalled the story Paige had told him about the time she and Ralph had been evicted. How she'd spent her last two dollars on an ice cream cone for Ralph while she begged for a job. 

He'd thought either her parents had disowned her for having a child out-of-wedlock (he remembered his parents talking in hushed tones about such things when he was young) or they were deceased. Both those conclusions were apparently erroneous. Paige had evidently severed ties with her mother around the time Drew had abandoned them. And she obviously didn't trust Veronica. He wondered why.

He didn't have long to dwell on it as he was disturbed yet again. "Hey, your baby momma gonna breast-feed?" the other man asked. Walter had no idea, it wasn't something they'd discussed. He wasn't given a chance to answer as Donnie added, "Don't let her. Makes the titties off limits, if you know what I mean." 

Unconsciously, Walter scooted his chair a little closer to Paige's. She glanced over at him, giving him scolding look tempered with a smile. "Pay attention," she mouthed at him.

Relief filled him two hours later as he and Paige walked out to their vehicle. Donnie had been obnoxious throughout the entire class, making disgusting comments and constantly jabbing at him. 

"So I see you made a new friend," Paige said as he opened the car door for her.

"Hardly." He waited as she made herself comfortable. 

She smiled up at him. "I heard a couple of the things he said. I'm proud of you for not giving him the tongue lashing he clearly deserved. But I kinda wish you would have. He's a real jerk. Oh. . ." She placed her hand on her stomach as she let out a squeak.

"Are you having contractions?" he asked worriedly.

"No." She reached for his hand and set it next to hers. "He's just kicking really hard." 

Walter calmed down as he felt their son's foot kick his palm. "We still haven't picked out a name," he pointed out. "We can't keep calling him "he". 

"I know." She blew out a blast of air. "Nothing seems right, though."

His mouth curled as he had an mischievous idea, a name she'd never go for. . . "You named Ralph after your father, right?"

"Yeees," she replied warily.

"So I guess naming the baby Ronnie after your mom is out of the question?" He had to press his lips shut to keep from laughing.

"That's not even funny," she said before shutting the car door in his face.

_____

Paige's grouchiness lasted even after they'd arrived back at the condo. Ralph had called, asking permission to stay the night at the garage with his grandmother. Walter could tell she wasn't happy about saying yes. He'd listened as she'd reeled off a long list of instructions before finally hanging up.

"Ugh, I don't like this," she said as she put her sweater away in the closet. "I don't trust her."

"He'll be okay." Walter didn't think Veronica would hurt her own grandson, not physically anyway. It was obvious, even to him, her mother had hurt Paige emotionally when she was younger. And despite his EQ being underdeveloped, he believed the older woman was trying to make amends with her daughter, if Paige would only let her.

"I hope so," she replied as she idly moved hangers along the rod. "Hey." She pulled out something and thrust it toward him. "When we bought this, you promised me you had a few ideas where I could wear it. So far it's just been gathering dust." 

Walter had to suck in his breath as she draped the slinky red maternity dress over her belly as his reaction was instant and intense. He'd taken off his shirt and kicked off his shoes as they'd readied for bed. He was ready for bed, all right, just not in the literal sense anymore. 

A moan escaped his throat as she stroked the fabric over her stomach. "Are you okay?" she asked, obviously oblivious to his predicament. 

"Yes." The single word came out strangled and hoarse and the little blood still left in his brain shot straight down to his groin.

That caught her attention. She pressed her lips together in a vain attempt to hide her smile. "Oh, I don't know," she said, holding the dress tighter against her body. "You seem a little. . .tense." Darting a glance downward, she added, "A little. . .stiff."

"W-We. . .we can. . .w-we can't. . ." She'd been having contractions. They couldn't. . . They shouldn't. . .

Paige moved closer, close enough the heat from her body caused him to break out into a sweat. "It's all right, Walter," she said. "I need less stress, not less sex." She placed her hands on his t-shirt then slid them upward and into his hair. "It helps me relax."

He groaned again as she pressed herself against him. The dress slithered toward the floor. "If y-you're s-sure," he said as her lips grew nearer.

"Very sure." Her words whispered across his skin just before she kissed him.

______

"Hey," Paige said later as they spooned naked under the sheets.

"Hmm. . ." She could tell Walter was almost asleep. Poor guy, he had to be exhausted. She'd missed him the night before when he'd been in jail. And he most definitely had missed her, if his enthusiastic love-making was anything to go by. The things he'd done with his tongue. . .

"Do you. . . Do you think I taste, uh, ‘funny'?" she asked. "You know, down there?"

"What? No." His head popped up over her shoulder. "Why would you ask that?"

"Because I'm pregnant."

"Yeah, I kinda noticed that." Walter placed his hand on her stomach and began caressing little circles with his fingers.

"No, when I was pregnant before. . . With Ralph. . . Um. . ." Probably not a good time to bring up her ex but. . . "Well, I was told I tasted ‘different' after I. . . I got. . ."

She watched as his mouth twisted into a frown, no doubt figuring out exactly who had told her that. He kissed her neck, nuzzling it a little before replying.

"I love how you taste." He kissed her shoulder. "But then I don't have anything else to compare it to."

She closed her eyes as the stupid niggling little voice in the back of her head starting filling her mind with ugly notions. Reminding her she was his first. . . That it was only a matter of time before he'd grow bored with her. . . That he would want to be with other women to satisfy his scientific curiosity. . . That she'd never be smart enough to keep his attention . . . That he'd abandon her like every other man in her life. . .

". . .never done it when you weren't pregnant," Walter had continued on, unaware of her inner turmoil.

She rolled her head to the side so she could look at him. "Yes, you did," she countered a bit testily. "That time in your loft when you lured me upstairs with cheeseca. . ." _Oh, crap_. "I was pregnant then, wasn't I?"

"Yes." He smiled smugly at her. "You just didn't know it yet."

"Ooo, you think you're so smart," she said, turning over to face him. 

"Well I _am_ a genius," he stated, wrapping his arms around her.

"Well, genius this." Sliding her hands from his hips to just underneath his arms, she began tickling him.

______

"Mail call!"

Toby strolled into the garage the next morning, carrying a stack of envelopes and magazines. He stopped in front of Paige's desk as he sorted through it. 

"Bill. Bill. Bill," he said as Walter watched him deposited each letter on her desk. "Ooo, one for Sly," the shrink announced as he held up a copy of a gaming magazine before he continued on. "Bill. Junk. Junk. Bill. Catalog. Postcard for Walter. . ." 

Taking the card from Toby, Walter turned it over, catching a faint lemony scent. Probably some advertising campaign for some new type of dish soap. Shrugging, he tossed it into his inbox.

"And last but not least, another bill," said Toby as he placed the last envelope on Paige's desk with a flourish. 

"Thanks," Paige said with a slightly sarcastic edge to her voice. "I'm gonna need another cup of coffee."

"I thought you were limiting yourself to one a day?" asked the psychiatrist, hitching his hip onto the edge of her workstation.

"I am." She got to her feet. "Just because I need one doesn't mean I'm going to drink one. Now go away."

"Yes, ma'am." The shrink hopped off her desk

Walter watched as Paige waddled off toward the kitchen, heat swamping him as desire sizzled through him. He squirmed uncomfortably in his chair, unable to look away.

"Admiring your handiwork, 197? Although I don't think it was your hands that got her in that condition."

His face burning even hotter, Walter jerked his head around to glare at Toby, embarrassed he'd been caught lusting after his pregnant girlfriend. "Shut up."

"Nice comeback, Big Brain," said the shrink. "What's the matter? All the blood rush down to the little brain?"

"Dammit, Toby."

"Hey, there's nothing wrong with it." The doc came over and sat his butt on the corner of Walter's desk. 

"It's not. . .uh, well. . .not perverted, is it?" Walter asked uneasily, not wanting to be thought a sick freak. 

"No, it's a pretty typical response, primitive male pride, impregnating your female and all that," said Toby. "What I don't understand is how you can be so calm about the impeding birth of your child."

Walter shrugged. "Paige has done this before, and I've been to all her appointments and. . ." He took a deep breath. "And I'm scared to death." Narrowing his eyes, he added, "Why do you want to know? I know you told her not to say anything about the contractions. . ."

"Hey, it was good advice at the time." The psychiatrist leapt to his feet, a sheepish expression on his face. "You were distressed enough by your little space adventure. Knowing she was experiencing false labor may have sent you over the edge." He darted a quick glance toward the mechanic's work area and lowered his voice. "I think Happy's pregnant. All the signs and symptoms are there."

"She hasn't said anything?" Walter was surprised but pleased for his friends. 

"I don't think she's realized it yet," said Toby with a grin. "I've already been planning to propose. I don't want her to think I'm offering marriage just because she's having a baby though. So I'm going to ask her before she figures it out."

_Oh, boy_. "That might not be a good idea."

"Why not? Just because you don't believe in the institution of marriage doesn't mean the rest of us have to eschew it." The doc looked over both his shoulders. "I've already commissioned an engagement ring. It should be finished by next week."

All the air seemed to be sucked out of the room and Walter started hyperventilating. _Oh, no, no, no_. . .

"What's wrong with you?" asked the shrink, staring at him suspiciously. 

Cabe chose that moment to stroll into the garage. "Gather round, got a case. It's an easy one this time."

"That's what you said last time," complained Sylvester as he got up out of his chair.

Walter hung back as the others crowded around the Homeland agent. Luck didn't exist in his opinion. But Cabe's arrival couldn't have been timelier, saving him from answering a question he didn't want to answer


	13. Chapter 13

Paige was wrapped up in Walter's arms, his face pressed against her neck. "I wish I could go with you," she said.

The mission didn't appear to be much of a risk on paper; a bank needing their forensic expertise in capturing an elusive embezzler, along with beefing up their security. But Scorpion had a knack for finding danger in the most benign situations. And she worried about not being there, in case something went wrong and he. . . Biting back a sob, she tried to stuff her anxiety into a far corner of her mind.

"I know you don't like being sidelined," he said, pulling away and kissing her forehead. "But we really don't need you this time."

"Wow, just what every girl wants to hear," she grumbled. 

His eyes widened, giving him a deer in the headlights expression and she had to suppress a giggle. "Oh, I didn't mean. . ."

"I know you didn't." She sighed. "It's just. . ." She glanced over her shoulder at the turquoise trailer. 

His eyes followed hers. "Maybe you and your mom can. . .you know. . .have a talk. . ." he said earnestly.

"Probably not a good idea." Paige took a step back and rested her arms across the top of her stomach. "I'm not supposed to get stressed, remember? Dealing with her is nothing but a big ball of stress."

Walter rubbed her belly. "I'm sorry," he said.

"It's definitely not your fault." Wanting to change the subject, her gaze wandered over to where Happy was assembling her tools as Toby hovered around her. Paige could almost feel the mechanic's annoyance from across the building.

"What's up with Toby?" she asked. "Happy looks like she's about to bean him with a wrench."

She watched as Walter's mouth tightened for a second. "No idea," he replied with a shrug. "We need to get going." He put his arms around her. "I love you."

Leaning in, he kissed her gently on the lips. Paige's toes curled as heat swirled through her. "I love you, too," she said when he lifted his head. "You be careful, okay?"

"I will." He slung his backpack over one shoulder before taking her hand as they walked toward the door, where the rest of the team had assembled. With one last squeeze of her fingers, he followed the others outside, tossing one last lingering gaze over his shoulder before disappearing from sight.

"Wow, he's got it bad for you, honey."

Paige slowly turned around to see her mother sauntering up behind her. Her hair and makeup were flawless, her rhinestone studded flip flops showcasing her bright red toenails. She was wearing the silky light blue robe Ray had left behind, and from what Paige could tell. . .nothing else.

Paige rolled her eyes. "Mom, put on some clothes."

Veronica glanced down at her outfit. "What's wrong with what I'm wearing? All the naughty bits are covered."

Paige closed her eyes and counted to ten. "This is a business, Mom. We need to be professional. People work here."

"And I seemed to have just missed them," said the older woman with a disappointed sag of her shoulders. She mumbled something Paige thought sounded like ‘that handsome federal agent'. 

Paige let the comment slide as she had another battle to fight. "I know it's been awhile since you've taken care of a child," she said, unable to keep the bitterness from her tone, "but instead of sleeping in, you were supposed to make sure Ralph ate breakfast and got to school on time. He missed his carpool and he would've been tardy if Walter and I hadn't come in early."

"He told me he didn't need any help when I asked," Veronica said with a wave of her hand. "Said he'd grab something to eat at school. By the time you were his age, you got off to school on your own without my help. Kids these days are so. . ."

"How would you know I didn't need any help? You were bouncing around from scam to scam. . . In and out of jail. . . Staying out all night and dragging your sorry ass back home at dawn. . ." Her belly tightened and she had to draw in a deep breath. "It would have been really nice to have a mother like the other moms. You know, the ones who actually cared about their kids."

"I had no idea you felt that way. I'm sorry, honey." Veronica clutched the lapels of her robe together. 

"I've heard that before," said Paige, her vision growing blurry.

Her mom sat down on a chair next to the trailer. "I really am sorry. I just wasn't cut out to be a damn suburban Stepford wife who wore pearls while I vacuumed the living room."

Paige lowered herself carefully into a nearby chair. "Then why did you even try?" Sympathy rose within her, as undeserving as it was. She had no desire to stay home and vacuum either, with or without pearls. 

"Because your father swept me off my feet," the older woman said with a sigh. "And when I got pregnant, he talked me into keeping the baby and getting married."

"Wait. . . Keep the baby?" _Oh, God_ , had her mother thought about not keeping her? She'd been in jeopardy of not being born?

"Oh, it wasn't you," Veronica said, no doubt noticing her distress. "I had a miscarriage about a month after the wedding. I didn't get pregnant with you until a couple of months later."

Silence hung in the air as Paige digested her mother's revelations. She could understand not wanting to be trapped into marriage, but. . . The thought of not having Ralph had never crossed her mind. She placed her hand on her stomach. Or this one either. Neither of them had been planned but she'd loved both of them from the moment she learned of their existence. And she'd do anything for them. 

Unlike the cold callous woman who raised her. Scratch that, the woman who'd grudgingly gave birth to her then pretty much let her fend for herself. 

"I really like your Walter. He's one of the good guys," Veronica said, disturbing Paige's already disturbed thoughts. "I never did care much for Drew. It was obvious he was a no-good flake."

"You only met him once," Paige pointed out, not mentioning she barely knew Walter either.

"Yeah, but that was enough to get a bead on him." Her mother pushed herself out of her chair. "It's a knack I have. You don't stay in the business I'm in for long if you can't read people. Now, what do I have to do to get a cup of coffee around here?"

Paige clumsily got to her feet. "I have work to do," she said. "There's a pot on in the kitchen. Help yourself. That is what you do best."

She waddled off toward her desk, but not before she saw the shaken expression on her mother's face.

_____

It had been one of those days, when simple tasks became impossible, and the impossible seemed so simple. They'd caught the embezzler, but not before the woman had threatened to blow up the bank vault where she'd trapped several people inside, including the bank manager, Happy, and Walter.

He relived the tense moments as he helped Paige dish up the Chinese takeout they'd picked up on the way home. She didn't like eating out the cardboard containers, insisting it was too messy and made it hard to share. Of course, he acquiesced to her wishes, appreciative he'd made it back to her in one piece.

Plus he'd noted she was in a grumpy mood, having spent most of the day with her mom. Thankfully Veronica had decided to look up some old friends and had made plans to go out with them that evening. Walter could relate to Paige's dilemma. He loved his parents, but it was hard to be around them, especially his dad. There was no commonality between them other than the fact they shared DNA. And now that Megan was gone. . . There was nothing holding them together anymore.

"Got you the barbecued pork you like, Ralph," said Paige as she set down a plate on the table, breaking into his depressing thoughts. He was surprised when the boy only grunted in reply.

"Well, I'm starving," Walter said, placing a bowl of fried rice next to the pork. Letting Paige use his arm for balance as she sat down, he waited until she was comfortable before taking his own seat.

They ate in relative silence, all of them tired from the long and exhausting day. Walter frowned as he watched Ralph twirl noodles with his fork, allowing them to slid back onto his plate before swirling them again.

"Mom?" 

Paige had been about to stuff a spoonful of teriyaki chicken into her mouth. "What, sweetie?" 

"Why didn't you and my dad get married?"

Walter nearly choked on his own mouthful of food. Reaching for his glass of water, he took a large sip.

"Because he never asked me," Paige replied. Her face had paled and he could see her eyes starting to shimmer. 

"Oh." The boy's expression was hard to read, especially for someone with low EQ. But Walter thought he saw sadness, with an underlying layer of vulnerability. Those were two emotions he was more than familiar with.

"Why do you want to know?" asked Paige. 

Ralph shrugged. "Some kids at school saw you and Walter dropping me off this morning."

"What does that have to do with Drew?"

"They wanted to know if Walter was my dad."

"Oh." Walter watched as Paige's expression started to match her son's. "What did you tell them?" she asked. He could hear the hesitation in her voice.

"I said no, he wasn't my dad, and he wasn't my stepdad, that he was. . ." Ralph set down his fork and sighed. "Forget it."

"No, honey," she said softly. "If something's bothering you, you know you can tell me. . .tell us. . ." She put her hand on Walter's shoulder. He reached up and grasped her fingers, giving them what he hoped was a reassuring squeeze.

Sighing wearily, the boy genius continued, "I told him Walter was your boyfriend and that you and my dad hadn't been married either. And then they said. . ." His voice trailed off as he stared down at his food.

"What did they say, Ralph?" 

Walter could see the youngster really didn't want to tell his mother what had been said. Kids could be so cruel. He'd learned early on to ignore the jokes and jibes which came his way because he was different. But even though he'd developed a thick hide, it didn't mean the insults and harassment didn't hurt.

"That you must be a real slut to have two kids with two different guys and not be married." The words had been spoken swiftly all in one breath, but Walter could easily comprehend each one. 

He glanced over at Paige. She'd closed her eyes, the tears which had been threatening before now dampening her lashes. Abruptly, and with more grace than her pregnant body usually allowed, she stood up and fled the dining room.

Walter froze, unsure of what to do. Obviously Paige needed consoling, but Ralph looked like he was about to be sick. Deciding to deal with the more urgent matter at hand, he cleared his throat.

"Are these kids your friends, Ralph?" he asked. The boy shook his head.

"No, just some guys in my homeroom."

"Don't pay attention to them," Walter advised. "They're just bullies. Besides, marriage is an archaic institution which started with fathers selling their daughters to the highest bidder. It goes back to a time when women were considered property to be bartered."

When Ralph didn't reply, instead continuing to stare down at his untouched meal, Walter added, "I do love your mom. And you. And I would never willing leave you." It was true. He didn't need a piece of paper to tell him to stay.

He could tell by the boy's face his statements didn't placate him. "I think my mom wants to marry you," Ralph declared, gazing at him challengingly. "At least I think she'd like to be asked." He pushed his plate away. "I'm sorry," he said, "I shouldn't have brought it up."

"It's not your fault, buddy." Dammit, the kid was near tears. Walter tried to smile at him, but it felt more like a grimace. "I should have picked up on the clues before now. Not much of a genius, am I?" he asked in a joking manner, trying to lighten the mood. 

Ralph ignored his feeble attempt at humor. "If marriage wasn't such an archaic institution, would you marry my mom?" he pressed.

Walter mulled over the question. Marriage had changed over the millennia, evolving into a bond between two people who loved each other. A bond he realized he wanted in the strongest possible way to tie him to Paige. . .and Ralph. Which meant he had to first take care of some unpleasant and complicated business.

"Yes, I want to marry your mom," he stated with conviction, "and I want us to be a family." 

Ralph's whole demeanor changed as he grinned happily before stabbing a piece of his barbecued pork.

_____

Walter had cleared the table, packed up the leftover food, washed the dishes, and sent Ralph to bed before entering the bedroom he shared with Paige. He should have checked on her earlier. But he didn't know how to comfort her, not when he couldn't say what she wanted to hear.

She was lying on her right side, still wearing the shirt and yoga pants she'd worn all day, the rise and fall of her chest indicated she was either asleep or doing an excellent job of faking it. Her face still bore the traces of the tears she undoubtedly had cried because of his insensitivity. 

He stripped down to his underwear and slid in beside her, pulling up the sheet to cover them both. She stirred a bit restlessly as he kissed her forehead. 

"I love you," he murmured against her skin. 

He rolled over onto his back and stared at the ceiling. As tired as he was, he knew he wouldn't get much rest that night.

_____

"Hey, Happy, got a minute?"

Walter had waited until everyone else had found something to busy themselves with before approaching the mechanic the next morning. She glanced up from the motorcycle carburetor she was rebuilding.

"Maybe. What do you want?"

"Uh, my car is making a weird noise," he said loud enough for the others to hear. "I was wondering if you could come take a look at it?"

She shrugged. "Sure, why not." She set down her wrench and followed him outside.

"There's nothing wrong with my car," he announced once the door had closed behind them. "But there is a problem."

"It's too damn early to be speaking in riddles, O'Brien," she growled. "I noticed the waitress giving you the stink eye this morning. What the hell have you done now?"

"Nothing," he said defensively. "Not directly anyway."

"Dammit, Walt." Happy raised a clenched fist and he took a step back. "Just spill it."

"We need to get a divorce."


	14. Chapter 14

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Borrowing bits of the plot line from "Mother Load" (3x09) but once again twisting them to fit my twisted needs.

" _We need to get a divorce._ "

"Are you serious?" Happy crossed her arms over her chest. "We can't. . . At least not for two more years. Why. . .?"

Walter rubbed the back of his neck. "I want to marry Paige." He glanced at the ground then back up at her. "And Toby told me yesterday he wants to marry you. . . Because he thinks you're pregnant too."

Her reaction was so un-Happy like it frightened him a little. Her face grew pale and her mouth opened but no words came out. The fact she wasn't threatening to kick anyone's ass led him to believe she was indeed going to have a baby.

"Oh, shit," she finally said. "Oh, shit." She leaned her back up against the front fender of his car. "Not good."

"I know it's not ideal," he began. "But I want. . .no, I need to marry Paige, before the baby is born if possible."

The mechanic shook her head. "You can't. Not before Wally Junior makes his appearance anyway." 

"We're not naming him Wally Junior," he said through gritted teeth. He narrowed his eyes at her. "And why not?"

"It takes six months to finalize a divorce. Paige is due in less than two." He started to ask how she knew that but she answered him before he could. "I looked it up." She glanced from side to side and lowered her voice. "I am pregnant. About six weeks. And I would very much like to be married to the father of my child. Who is definitely not you.

"But you're not a legal citizen yet," she continued. "Our marriage has been a sham from the start. We file for divorce now. . .before the eight years are up. . . The INS will deport your ass back to Ireland faster than you can say Erin go bragh."

"Hopefully it won't come to that," he said with more optimism than he felt. "As long as I'm married to a US citizen. . ."

"You're a genius, O'Brien, and you need to start using that genius brain logically." Happy put her hands on her hips. "Of course it's going to come to that." Kicking a piece of gravel, she stared at him. "I don't want to go to prison because you finally get a bee up your butt about marrying Dineen. Especially not now."

"I wouldn't want you to either." Walter ran his hand through his hair. "Dammit."

"Exactly," said the mechanic. "Back then, getting married seemed like the perfect solution. You got to stay in the country and I got to keep my best friend. Neither of us planned to fall in love, with each other or with anyone else." She looked at him with a grim expression.

"We're gonna have to tell them, aren't we?" she said. 

No need to ask who she meant. And as much as he would have liked to keep Paige and Toby in the dark about the fact he and Happy had been married for the last six years, he knew it wasn't a viable option. 

Walter took a deep breath. "Yeah," he agreed. "We're gonna have to tell them."

_____

Paige was wondering why it was taking so long for Happy to diagnose what was wrong with Walter's car. They hadn't even started up the engine as far as she could tell. She hadn't noticed anything out of the ordinary this morning when they drove into work together. And she would have noticed. The ride to the garage had been nearly silent enough to hear a pin drop.

She shouldn't have gotten so upset the night before. If Walter wasn't ready to marry her, then he wasn't ready. Forcing his hand. . . She just couldn't do it. Looking back, she was glad she and Drew had never tied the knot. It made separating their lives so much easier after he'd abandoned for that blonde in Tahoe. 

Sighing, she realized she had hoped Walter would be different. That he'd want to make a family with her. An official family. Not some loosey-goosey arrangement he could wiggled out of, as Drew had. She knew Walter wasn't Drew, but. . . He was still a man who had yet to prove whether he was one she could count on. . .like her father. Or one she couldn't. . .like her ex.

Which brought her to the other reason she was ticked off that morning. Veronica had yet to make an appearance. It was after ten o'clock, for heaven's sake. How late had she stayed out with her friends last evening? 

Paige pushed herself out of her chair and headed toward the turquoise trailer, not wanting a repeat of her mother's nearly naked parade through the garage the day before. Another possibility crossed her mind, causing her to gag a little. What if Veronica wasn't alone? Oh, God. . .

"Mom," she called out as she knocked on the door. "Mom, are you up?" There was no response, but then it had always been a struggle to get the older woman out of bed. "Mom, the whole team is here, so you need to be decent when you come out. Okay? Mom?"

She impatiently waited several minutes, straining to listen for any telltale signs of her mother getting up. When there weren't any, Paige cautiously opened the door, bracing herself for the worse case scenario. "Mom? I'm coming in," she announced, coming to an abrupt halt just inside as it was obvious Veronica wasn't there.

The trailer looked like it had been ransacked. The bed was unmade. Clothes were strewn everywhere. Drawers and cupboards were left hanging open. Paige glanced at the nearest drawer, which contained several pairs of thong underwear in leopard and tiger prints. _Oh, God_. 

Not wanting to know if they belonged to her mother or if Ray had left them behind like he'd left the robe, she pushed the drawer closed. It jammed about three quarters of the way shut. Paige yanked the drawer back open as far as it would go. A smallish bulky object fell on top of a lurid orange and green tiger striped G-string. Was that. . .?

Paige reached down and picked up the wad of cash. "What the hell?" It was mostly fives and tens, some of which were rather sticky. Not wanting to dwell on how they got that way, Paige let the money fall back into the drawer with a thud

Before she could even begin to speculate where the cash had come from, a loud creak from the garage door caught her attention. Snatching up the roll of money, she stepped out of the trailer, nearly collided with her mom, who was red-faced and breathless, like she'd been running. 

"Oh, shit," said Veronica, who Paige noticed was wearing the same clothes from the evening before.

"Mom, what the hell is going on?" she demanded before holding up the wad of bills. "And what the hell is this?"

"Oh, shit," the other woman repeated. "You weren't supposed to find that."

"Why wasn't I supposed to find it?" 

"I know you've got a lot on your mind lately," her mother began, "but didn't you question how Ralph sold all fifty boxes of his Brave Forest cookies. . ."

"Forest Braves," corrected Paige.

Veronica shrugged. "Whatever. You didn't wonder how he sold them all in one night?"

"He did?" Paige lowered herself into the nearest chair. "He never said anything. And that doesn't explain this." She waved the roll of cash at her mother as she sensed rather than saw the other members of the team gather round, including Walter and Happy, who had come back inside.

"It doesn't matter," the older woman said briskly. "I've got bigger fish to fry." 

As if on cue, the garage door was once again flung open and two large burly men wandered inside. Her mom made a strangled noise before hopping into the trailer and quickly yet quietly shutting the door. Paige, already shaking with anger, added fear to her plate as Walter positioned himself in front of the intruders, blocking their way.

"Can I help you?" he asked in a calm voice. She watched as his hands coiled into fists, betraying his composed manner.

"Ya, we looking for lady," the smaller of the two men replied. He raised his flattened hand about mid-chest level. "About this tall, red hair. . .not too bad looking for old lady."

A muffled sound came from inside the RV. Paige had to bit her lip at what had to be her mother's indignation at being called an ‘old lady.'

"Why are you looking for her?" Walter asked.

"She owe us money."

Walter glanced over his shoulder at Paige, who shook her head. Fury bubbled up inside her. Another one of Veronica's schemes must have gone south and now not only was she in big trouble, she was endangering the whole team. 

"I don't see anyone here who matches your description," Walter declared, a statement which wasn't technically untrue. "I think you have the wrong. . ."

The larger of the two men moved forward menacingly. "No, she come here. I saw." He pointed at his eyes.

"Well, maybe you need to get your eyes checked," taunted Happy as she came up to stand beside Walter. "There's no one else here but us." She indicated the rest of the team.

Sylvester looked like he was about to lose his breakfast. Toby twitched nervously as he stood behind the mechanic. Paige noticed with a pang of alarm Cabe's hand resting just under the lapel of his blazer, ready to reach for the gun she knew he had holstered there.

Walter remained rooted in front of all of them, like a guard dog, protecting his cyclone. The smaller man pulled the bigger one back and they had a short conversation in a language Paige didn't understand. 

The smaller man grinned at them. "Sorry for mistake," he said, reaching into his pocket and pulling out a business card. "If you see woman, let us know please." His smile grew wider as he left the card on the closest workstation, which happened to be Happy's, before nudging his companion. The men then turned and left, the garage door creaking loudly as it opened and closed behind them.

Walter let out a sigh of relief. He glanced over at Happy, who gave her head surreptitiously shake. He hoped it meant she thought they should postpone their announcement. . .for now.

Veronica poked her head out of the trailer. "Is the coast clear?" she asked.

"What the hell, Mom," shouted Paige. "I should have known you were up to something. How dare you. . ." She was flushed with anger, which couldn't be good for her. . .or the baby. 

His concern was justified when she let out a gasp as she clutched at her stomach. "What's wrong?" her mother asked. He couldn't tell if the older woman was genuinely worried or just glad Paige stopped yelling at her.

"Nothing," said Paige, taking a deep breath. "The baby just kicked me really hard." Walter knew she was lying as he hurried over to her. "Who the hell are those men?" she asked. "Russian Mafia?"

"Slovak," Walter stated. "They were speaking Slovak." He was sorry he brought it up when he saw the furious glare Paige shot him.

"I'm sorry, honey," said Veronica. "I didn't think they'd find me so quickly. I was hoping I had more time" 

"How much do you owe them?" Walter asked, placing his hand on Paige's shoulder.

"Five hundred thousand." Veronica had the decency to appear slightly ashamed.

"Five hund. . . Five hundred thousand?" Paige choked out.

"Don't worry, I'm good for it," said her mother with a casual wave. "I just ran into a little trouble retrieving it."

"Is there anything we can do to help?" Walter winced as Paige slapped at his leg. "What?" he asked. "The sooner she gets the money, the sooner she can leave."

The older woman put her hands on her hips. "And here I thought you were one of the good guys."

"I don't care what you think," he retorted, fighting a losing battle with his temper. "You've endangered your daughter and your grandsons." He raked his hand through his hair as her motives became clear to him. "This never was about wanting to see Ralph, was it? You used him. . . To get to us."

She actually had the audacity to tear up. "No, that's not true. I really did want to see him. But. . . But the other is true now. I do need your team's help."

"The money, where is it?" he asked.

"It's in an abandoned building," Veronica began, "that's scheduled for renovations starting tomorrow. But there's a problem."

"Yes, you already mentioned that. " Walter impatiently crossed his arms over his chest. 

"And well, that's where I hid the money. Except I couldn't remember exactly where I hid it. So last night, some friends of mine in the construction business." She air quoted the last two words before continuing, "came over with some jackhammers. . . Long story short, we found this very old piece of machinery covered in warning stickers in an old elevator shaft." 

"What kind of machinery?" asked Happy. "Do you think it's valuable? Like an antique or something?"

Paige's mother shook her head. "No," she said. "I think it might be a nuclear reactor."

_____

Walter walked up to Happy's workstation, where the mechanic was filling a duffel bag with tools. "You're not going," he announced without preamble.

"The hell I'm not," she hissed. "You need me there. On site. Not miles away staring at a monitor and listening over comms."

"It's a nuclear reactor," he pointed out unnecessarily before lowering his voice. "And you're pregnant."

"No shit, Sherlock." She tossed another socket wrench into her bag. 

"Paige isn't going." 

"Well, duh, dumbass. She's about ready to pop. And she's not a mechanical genius." She shot an angry glance at him. "And that's why you hired me, isn't it? For my mechanical and engineering skills? Which are 100% essential to complete this job without blowing up half of El Segundo."

Walter raked both of his hands through his hair. Dammit. She was right. She needed to be there to assess the situation in person. But. . .if anything happened to her. . .or her baby. . . He'd never forgive himself. "Happy. . . You can't. . ."

"You're my husband in name only, jackass," she murmured "You can't tell me what to do."

"Maybe not, but I am your boss. . ."

She laughed mockingly. "Yeah, and you know I'm right."

Before he could reply, something thumped against his upper back. Turning his head slightly, Walter observed Happy's horrified face as an arm was thrown around her shoulder. Toby's grinning face looked from him to her. 

"Hey, whatcha you two whispering about over here?"


	15. Chapter 15

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's an episode smorgasbord! I've got portions of "Mother Load", "Toby or Not Toby" (2x24), and "Little Boy Lost" (3x04) that I've rehashed and re-served to suit my craving for angst. Bon appétit!

_"Hey, whatcha you two whispering about over here?"_

Happy elbowed Toby in the ribs. "We were discussing what a pain in the ass you are," she replied before Walter could even open his mouth. 

The shrink let his arms slide downward. "I was hoping he was convincing you to stay behind with Paige."

"If anyone should, it's you, numbnuts. You're a freaking doctor." Happy narrowed her eyes. "And why the hell do you think I should stay?" she challenged.

"Uh. . ." Toby was obviously at a loss for words, a rare occurrence for the psychiatrist. Walter could understand why. He was just as worried about a pregnant Happy possibly being exposed to radiation. "Well, you know. . ." the other man began, clearly choosing his words with care. "You're a woman. . . Paige is a woman. . . I, um, I just thought you could keep her company. You know. . . Maybe bond a little. Woman to woman."

"Listen up, jackass," the mechanic said, rolling her eyes. "Just because me and the waitress share the same plumbing, it doesn't mean we're ever going to be BFFs." Hefting the strap of her tool bag over her shoulder, she stated, "I'm going. And that's final." She shot both men a belligerent glance before heading out the door.

"Thanks for backing me up there, amigo," said Toby, firing his own disgruntled glare at Walter, who sighed. 

"She doesn't listen to me either," he pointed out. "And we do need her there."

"We could just call the authorities and let them deal with it."

"We could," Walter conceded. "But we won't." He wanted Paige and the others out of danger sooner rather than later. Plus, the fewer people who knew about Veronica and her connections to the Slovaks, and the amount of money involved, the better. 

"I knew you'd say that." Glancing over at the door, the shrink added, "You better hope nothing happens to her." Huffing out a breath, Toby adjusted his hat as he took off after Happy.

"Keep an eye on her." 

Paige's voice startled Walter. He turned to face her. Oh, shit, did she know about the mechanic's condition? "Who? Happy?" he asked for clarification.

"No, my mom." She sighed wearily. "She doesn't care who get hurts. . .as long as she gets what she wants."

"We'll be careful," he replied.

"I've heard that before." She stroked her hand across her belly. "I'm. . .I'm sorry about last night. I. . ." With a shrug, she continued, "I shouldn't have stormed out like that. I should have stayed and had a rational conversation but. . . I guess I was incapable of doing even that." 

"I, uh. . ." He didn't know what to say and was relieved when she cut him off.

"Just come back in one piece, okay? I love you." Sliding her arms around his neck, she kissed him on the lips.

"O-Okay," he replied as she pulled away. "Love you, too."

Paige watched as Walter and the others, including her mom, trooped out of the garage. Poor guy. His EQ had developed by leaps and bounds since she'd met him. But it was obvious he was in over his head, dealing with a hormonal pregnant woman whose estranged criminal mother had unexpectedly appeared out of nowhere. Hell, she was having trouble dealing with the emotional roller coaster her life was on right now.

Waddling into the kitchen, she opened the freezer, reaching behind bags of frozen vegetables which she figured none of the others would ever disturb, let alone eat. Triumph flowed through her as her fingers found the pint of salted caramel toffee ice cream she'd hidden away in case of an emergency. 

Paige grabbed a spoon before sitting down at the table and opening the container. Not caring she was supposed to cut down on sodium, sugar, and fat, she savored the salty creamy sweetness as it melted on her tongue. Because if Walter and the rest of the team plus her mom disposing of a nuclear reactor wasn't an emergency, she didn't know what was.

_____

"I'm okay."

Toby reached Happy's side seconds before Walter did. And despite her reassurance to the contrary, she didn't look okay. She appeared pale and dazed. The shrink knelt down next to her, offering her his hand.

"I don't know," he began, "usually when you're lying flat on your back and moaning, I'm working my sexual magic on you."

She ignored his gesture of help. "Just the wind knocked out of me, you sick son of. . ." The mechanic interrupted herself with a groan as she tried to sit up. "Not good," she muttered, flopping back down onto the concrete floor and sliding her hands under her hips.

"What the hell happened?" Walter crouched beside her, taking in her pained expression. She tossed him a warning glance which he took to mean to keep quiet about her pregnancy. Although he didn't know why, Toby had already guessed. 

"Dammit, 197, this is not the time for recriminations." Walter opened his mouth to rebut Toby's rebuke but the psychiatrist shot him a panicked look before gently placing his hands on Happy's belly. "Just tell the nice doctor where it hurts, sweetheart," he said.

"My lower back," the mechanic said. "I think I pulled something jumping onto Cabe."

Walter watched helplessly as Toby tried to examine Happy, who kept swatting at him. "We have six and a half minutes to hook the reactor up to the truck battery. Let me up, jackass," she grumbled.

"Walter and Sly can do it," he argued.

"No, they can't." She shook her head. "I know what I'm doing. They don't. One mistake and mushroom cloud." She waved her hands in the air while making explosion noises with her mouth.

With a defeated sigh, the shrink grabbed one of her arms while Walter got the other and together they lifted her to her feet. Wincing with every step, she hurried over to where Cabe and Sylvester were loading the reactor into the back of the truck. "Careful, you klutzes. Don't hit the coolant pipes. Hey, morons," she called out, waving her hand at Toby and Walter. "Get your asses over here and help."

The mechanic kept reeling off a list of instructions as everyone loaded and secured the reactor in the truck. She insisted she needed to ride in the back with it, so somehow Walter ended up driving with Veronica riding shotgun.

"This is what you guys do for a living?" She'd pitched in when they'd been stacking film canisters and binders under the jack while raising the reactor ten feet to the next floor. With her hair mussed and most of her makeup sweated away, Walter noticed how strongly Paige resembled the older woman. 

He chuckled. "Our cases usually don't go this well," he explained as he gingerly turned a corner. 

"You know, I like you," she said, squinting over at him. "I think you're a man my daughter can rely on."

"Uh. . .thanks?" It was hardly an endorsement, coming from a conwoman.

"But you're hiding something from her. I can tell," she added, no doubt reading the stunned disbelief he was feeling on his face. "And I know from experience she doesn't like people keeping secrets from her. You need to tell her before it blows up in your face."

"Uh, I, um. . . It's. . .It's not just my secret to keep," he explained, his gut twisting into knots. "And I do. . .I do plan to tell her. . . It's. . .just. . ."

"The sooner the better," Veronica said with a wise nod. "I'd be much happier knowing she'll be in safe hands before I leave."

"You're not staying in LA?" he asked. He was hardly surprised. She didn't seem like a person who remained in any one place for long. But still. . . "Paige is due in a little over six weeks. I'm sure she'd. . ."

"I'm sure she'd rather I didn't stick around," Veronica replied. "I'm not very fond of babies anyway. All that drool, and the diapers. . ." She shuddered before continuing, "I'd like to spend more time with Ralph though. He's one smart boy."

"Yes, he is," Walter said proudly, although he had nothing to do with Ralph's IQ. And even though his own EQ was lacking, he knew the boy genius's wasn't and he'd be hurt by his grandmother's departure. Taking the money and running, leaving Paige and Ralph and a new grandson behind without a second thought.

Veronica was right about one thing though. He needed to tell Paige. And he'd have to deal with the fallout as best he could. But for the moment, he needed to focus on preventing another type of fallout first. And he knew he was being hyperbolic (and not in a geometric way), but he wasn't sure which one would be worse.

_____

The loud creaking of the garage door woke Paige from her nap. Sitting up on the couch, she combed her fingers through her hair, wondering how long she'd been asleep. A quick glance at her watch confirmed it had been a couple of hours since the rest of the team had wrapped up their mission and gone off comms. But not before telling her they'd be back in half an hour. Where the hell had they been all this time?

As she struggled to her feet, a fussing Toby steered a perturbed Happy over to the sofa. The mechanic plopped down with a grimace. Had they taken her to the hospital because of her injury? Surely they would have said something. . .

"You stay right there," the shrink instructed. "I'll get you an ice bag." He took several steps backward before turning and heading toward the kitchen.

"I'll ice your bag all right," Happy muttered as she cautiously leaned against the cushions.

"Is your back still bothering you?" 

The mechanic tipped her head in the psychiatrist's direction. "He's what's bothering me. I guess one pain in my ass isn't enough."

Paige had to press her lips together to keep from grinning. But a smile grew on her face anyway as she spotted Walter walking through the door, followed by Sylvester and Cabe. He was dirty and sweaty and exhausted, like a conquering hero fresh from the fight. And it was all she could do to stop herself from dragging him upstairs. She settled instead for putting her arms around him and kissing his stubbly cheek.

"I'm sorry," he said, his eyes darting toward the floor.

"Sorry about what?" The mission had been successful. They'd deposited the reactor at the bottom of the ocean, neutralizing the threat and saving the greater Los Angeles area from becoming a nuclear waste land. Why would he be sorry?

When he didn't answer, she glanced around, noticing for the first time not everyone had come back. She gasped. "My mom?" Placing her hand over her mouth, she sank down onto the couch next to Happy, who was now holding a bag of frozen peas wrapped in a dish towel against her back. "Oh, God. . ."

"Oh, no, not. . ." Walter was kneeling in front of her. "She's not. . ." He took a deep breath. "She took off with the truck after we unloaded the reactor. When we went back to the building to pick up Cabe's SUV, there was a gaping hole in the floor and. . .she was gone."

Paige's shoulders drooped. She didn't know why she was disappointed. Veronica was just being Veronica. Caring only about herself and the hell with everyone else. She'd gotten what she'd came for, and Paige was a fool for getting her hopes up her mother would actually act like a mother.

"Are you okay?" Walter asked, interrupting her mental grumblings 

"Yeah, I guess I shouldn't be surprised." She held out her hand and he helped her to her feet. "She's good at disappearing. I'm just worried about Ralph." 

"Uh, yeah." He raked his hand through his already messy curls. "Can we, um, can we go upstairs. . .?"

"You must have been reading my mind," she said, waggling her brows as they moved toward the ramp. 

"Uh, no, not. . ." His face turned bright red, but under his blush, she noticed he also looked a little green, like he was ready to hurl. "N-No, to talk. I-I. . .I need to. . ."

Whatever he'd been about to say was drowned out by Happy's shouting, "Don't do it, jackass!"

Paige gasped as she watched Toby go down on one knee before the mechanic who was still icing her back on the sofa. "I promise I won't ask the question you think I'm going to ask."

"No, thank you." Happy crossed her arms over her chest.

"Toby, she said don't," Walter cautioned, an odd tone in his voice. Darting a quick glance at him, Paige saw he'd become even greener.

"Butt out, Big Brain." The shrink reached into his pocket and pulled out a small black box. "I said I wasn't going to ask it and I'm not." He grinned goofily at her. "I'm going to sing it." 

Opening the box, he held it up to her as he began singing. Paige couldn't help but smile over how silly it was, but it was typical Toby. "I've loved you since I can't remember when, and I gonna love you ‘til I forget how. Will you please marry me?" he finished, stretching out the ‘e' in me for several bars.

Happy's reply surprised them all. "I can't."

Toby stumbled to his feet. "Why not? I love you, you love me." Paige almost giggled as the _Barney_ theme song popped into her head. God, she hated that stupid purple dinosaur, but it had kept Ralph entertained for hours when he was a toddler.

"I'm married to someone else."

As if her first announcement hadn't been shocking enough, this one sent a flabbergasted hush over the building. Then Toby's voice broke the silence. "To who?"

"To whom."

The psychiatrist's head swivelled around so fast, Paige thought she was watching a scene from _The Exorcist_. His frustrated eyes met Sylvester's now panicked ones. "Put a cork in it, Grammar Police." He turned back to stare at Happy. "What he said."

The mechanic was focused on her boots as she drew deep breaths. She flicked her gaze upward for a second, then seemed to relax.

"To me." Walter stepped forward, facing the rest of the team with a grim expression. "She's married to me."

"You son of a bitch!" Toby practically flew across the room, hurdling over Sly's desk, knocking Walter to the floor. "I'm going to kill you!" the shrink screamed, his fists flying as Walter barely defended himself.

"Stop it!" The now thawed bag of peas smacked Toby in the back of the head. "It was six years ago," said Happy as Cabe pulled the still flailing behaviorist away from Walter. "He was a friend in need. His visa was up. He was going to be deported."

"There was nothing romantic about it," Walter confirmed, rubbing his jaw before lifting his head to stare at Paige, his eyes filled with fear. "But if we get divorced now, before I get my citizenship in two years, I'm still in danger of being deported."

"I'll deport your ass back to Ireland right now," Toby said hotly. "I need to marry her as soon as possible, not two years from now."

Happy stood up slowly and ambled up to where the Homeland agent was restraining the shrink. "Why? I'm not going anywhere, Doc."

"Well, because. . ." The anger seemed to have drained out of him, and a much less confident Toby appeared to squirm under her scrutiny. 

"If it's because I'm pregnant, you can take that ring and shove it."


	16. Chapter 16

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Borrowed bits from "Plight at the Museum" (3x05) and "We're Gonna Need a Bigger Vote" (3x07).

_"If it's because I'm pregnant, you can take that ring and shove it."_

Happy's threat hung heavily in the air as Toby stopped struggling against Cabe's full nelson hold. Walter darted a glance at Paige, whose face had paled significantly. She had both arms wrapped protectively around her abdomen, which also concerned him. Was she having contractions? She didn't seem to be in any pain. . . At least not physically.

"Wait." Sylvester paused in the middle of restoring the items on his desk which the shrink had mowed down in his haste to pummel Walter. "You're not a US citizen?" he asked with a puzzled expression as he looked over at Walter, who was picking himself up off the concrete floor.

"No. Why?" He brushed off the seat of his trousers.

"I've decided to run for the position of city alderman of West Altadenia and I was hoping I could count on your vote," the younger genius explained.

"I don't live in West Altadenia." Walter wondered if Sly's decision had anything to do with the comic book store where he played Fantasies and Frolics being torn down.

"Oh, right," the human calculator said. "Never mind." His face a bright red, he went back to reorganizing his belongings.

"Hold up a minute," said Cabe. "I don't understand. Why didn't you just renew your visa? I had to pull a lot of strings to get a sixteen year old an Einstein visa."

"An Einstein visa?" asked Toby, a malicious gleam in his eye. "That must have been a real slap in the face, Mr "My IQ is Higher Than Einstein's."

"Can it, Doc." The Homeland agent stared at Walter, who fidgeted uncomfortably under his scrutiny.

"I had been renewing it, every year after the initial three year visa expired. But then. . ."

"But then you met Mark Collins," Happy sneered, "and he filled your head full of crazy shit.."

"Starting my own business was my idea," countered Walter, "as was applying for permanent status." At least he thought it had been. Mark had always complained about the hours he'd wasted while at his job as a forensic analyst. Hours they could have devoted to working on their intellectual endeavors.

"Yeah, but he was the one who suggested you quit your job at the bank so you two could spend more time together. And since you weren't employed, your application got denied. Your O-1 had run out and I had to marry your sorry ass to keep you in the country."

"So, was this marriage consummated?" the shrink asked out of the blue. "Because, I swear to God, O'Brien, if you fucked her. . ." He took a menacing step forward, only to be corralled by Cabe once again.

"Oh, God." Walter spun around as Paige sank down into her desk chair. Her skin was like chalk. His anxiety over her well-being escalated. 

"I never touched her," he stated, running his hand through his hair. "Except for a kiss in the judge's chamber."

"And it's not like we enjoyed it," Happy added, glancing at him with a smirk. "It was gross."

"Come on, it wasn't that bad." he said, his pride smarting a little. It had been weird though. Like kissing an inanimate object.

Happy ignored him. "Besides," she began, directing her words at the psychiatrist, "remember that morning we went to the garage and those two. . ." she pointed at Walter and Paige, "were upstairs getting their freak on and I said it was about time he got laid and you agreed?"

Heat crept up Walter's neck. Dammit, had everyone known he'd been a virgin? He knew he shouldn't let it bother him, but, for some reason, it did.

"Oh. Yeah. I. . .uh. . ." Toby had the decency to look ashamed. But that emotion was short-lived. "Still doesn't change the fact you two are married and you've been cheating on him. . .with me."

"It's not like he cares," she said. "You're not the first. . ." She abruptly stopped talking.

"I'm not the first what?" the shrink demanded angrily.

"It doesn't matter," she ground out. "It's never been a real marriage. But getting out of it is going to be tricky. The second we file for a divorce, INS is going to come down on us like a ton of bricks."

"That's your problem, isn't it?" Toby walked over to where he'd dropped the engagement ring and plucked it up off the floor. Even without a degree in either psychiatry or psychology, Walter knew the behaviorist was looking for a scapegoat to blame for the botched proposal. He just hadn't decided whether it should be him or Happy.

"I'm outta here," the shrink snarled. "Let me know when you get it all figured out." He stormed out of the garage, his grand exit marred by the fact the door got stuck and wouldn't slam shut behind him.

"Stupid son of a bitch," muttered Happy. Unlike Toby, however, she knew exactly who to blame. She marched up to Walter and jabbed a finger into his sternum. "You just had to listen to Mark Collins, didn't you?" she asked as pain radiated through his chest. "I should file for a divorce. If you get deported, it'd be one less dumbass in my life."

"Happy. . ." Walter didn't know what to say to change her mind. He couldn't go back to Ireland. Not now.

"We all need to take a beat," Cabe said, coming up to stand next to Walter. "You're a government asset working on high-clearance international cases. If you had a US passport, you could move in and out of the country faster. I could get Immigration to expedite your application."

"Thanks, Cabe," he said. "I'd appreciate that."

"Don't thank me yet," said the agent. "It could be risky. An expedited review could mean extra scrutiny."

"And extra scrutiny could uncover our marriage is a sham and I'd still get deported." Walter took a deep breath. Either way, he was screwed. He doubted they'd get a case worker who was 82 with cataracts like they did six years ago. But. . . He glanced over at Paige, who appeared to be in shock. For her sake, and for Ralph's and the baby's, he had to try.

"Do it," he said.

"I'll get the ball rolling first thing in the morning," the agent offered, patting Walter on the shoulder. The older man then turned to Happy. "You need a ride home, kid?"

The mechanic seemed surprised by the offer. "Yeah, I guess I do," she said, reaching her hand into her jacket pocket and coming up empty. 

"Me, too," Sly chimed in, smiling uneasily. "Not home though. The Warlock's Chest."

"More the merrier." The Homeland agent started walking toward the door, followed by Happy and Sylvester.

"Cabe, wait." 

Walter spun around to see Paige rising awkwardly from her chair. "I don't have my car and besides, I don't fit behind the steering wheel anymore." She gathered up her purse and sweater.

Cabe tossed him a look which was a mixture of sympathy and ‘what did you expect?'

"Paige. . . Please. . ." He couldn't let her go. Not yet. Not until he could reassure her he would never abandon her. Not willing anyway.

She hesitated, turning her wide eyes in his direction. Cabe cleared his throat. "We'll just wait outside." He ushered his other two passengers out the door.

Walter warily stepped closer to her desk. "I'm going to fix this so I can marry you. I want us to be a family."

She stared at him, her eyes brimming with tears. Opening her mouth, she quickly closed it, biting her lip.

"There was never anything romantic between me and Happy," he repeated, "it was just the most expedient way to keep me from being deported."

An angry expression slid over her face. "I understand why you did it. I'm not an idiot." she snapped. And even though she was pissed at him, he was glad she was finally showing some emotion. "You've been cheating on Happy. . .on your wife with. . . Oh, God. . ."

She gasped, falling back into her chair, and his fear over her health returned. "You've made me the ‘Other Woman'." 

Ducking his eyes away from her furious glare, he said, "You're not the other woman. You're the only woman." He rubbed his hand across the back of his neck. "Besides, it's not like Happy's ever been faithful to me. It was never like that between us."

"Why didn't you tell me? Don't you trust me?" She sagged back in her chair, stroking her very pregnant belly. 

"I trust you with my life," he reassured her. "But it wasn't just my story to tell. Only three people knew and that was already one too many."

Paige inhaled sharply, realizing he'd said those words before. "You said that about that time stamp. . . On those. . .those photos Linda sent us," she added when he appeared confused. "And there was a number, two thousand and something. . ."

"Two thousand one hundred eight-four. It was two thousand one hundred eighty-four days," he said, looking like he was going to be sick.

She tried to do the mental arithmetic but her brain was too agitated and the numbers kept jumbling together until she couldn't make any sense out of any of it. 

Walter must have sensed her struggle because he supplied the answer. "It's approximately six years." 

"You could have told me then, but you didn't." The baby kicked and she rubbed the spot where the tiny foot had hit her. "You've been lying to me all this time."

"I never lied. . ."

"Lied by omission. . ." she said accusingly.

"To be honest. . ." he began.

She snorted. "Oh, now you're being honest?"

"To be honest," he repeated, "being married was an unimportant detail I'd shoved to the back of my mind until I saw that time stamp."

Paige pursed her lips. "I'm going to overlook the fact you think being married is ‘an unimportant detail'," she said. "I'm just curious how Linda found out if supposedly only you, Happy, and Mark Collins knew about it."

"Uh. . ." He aimed his gaze down at the floor as he ran his hand through his hair. "It's a matter of public record. Anyone can access marriage records, no hacking required," he added, biting off a laugh.

His poor attempt at humor didn't amuse her. She stood up, a task which had been getting harder and harder to do since her swollen belly had shifted her center of gravity. "Are you serious about getting married?" 

"Yes," Walter replied, "very serious. I want you and me and Ralph and the baby. . ." He pointed at her stomach. "I want us to be a real family."

He seemed sincere, but then so had Drew. And she knew she needed to stop comparing the two men, because they were as different as night and day. But she couldn't help it. Her ex has promised her essentially the same thing, minus the mention of marriage, and had abandoned her anyway. A lot could happen in six months, like Walter could be living in Ireland. Leaving her by herself with a newborn and a very distraught older son. 

"You haven't officially proposed yet, you know," she said peevishly.

Walter started to open his mouth to do just that, but she cut him off. "The answer would be no," she said, "I won't even consider it until you're officially a free man." 

"But. . ." But it could be months before he was single again. There was the possibility he'd have to leave the country for awhile. He could miss the birth of their son. 

"I need to go," she said, intruding into his dire deliberations, "the others are waiting."

"I'll drive us home," he offered. "Just let me get my stuff."

"Oh, no, you're not coming back to the condo with me," she said. "I can't sleep with a married man."

It suddenly became impossible to breathe. She didn't mean that. Couldn't mean that. Was she. . . Oh, shit, was she leaving him? Gulping in several lungs full of air, he waited until his full-blown panic subsided into a mild hysteria.

"What. . .What d-difference does it make now?" he asked, a bit of lingering dread leaking into his voice.

"Truthfully," she said, looking down to play with the clasp of her bag, "I don't know. It just does." Lifting her gaze to meet his, she added, "I need some time. . ."

"Please." Tears began to fill his eyes but he didn't care. "Please. . . Don't do this. . . Don't. . ."

She interrupted his desperate pleas. "I can't deal with this right now," she said, agitatedly waving her hand. "I'm. . . Since I'm more or less sidelined anyway. . . I won't be in. . ."

"Paige, please. . ."

"Walter. . ." She bit her lip and he could see she was wavering. "Please, just give me some time to. . .to think things through. Okay?"

She didn't wait for his reply, instead moving past him as she waddled toward the door. He wanted to chase after her, beg her not to leave, not to leave him. Instead, he kept his eyes trained on her until she disappeared out the door, not wanting to acknowledge it could be the last time he'd ever see her. But he had to acquiesce to her wishes and give her the space she needed to sort it all out. 

All he could do was hope it all sorted out in his favor.

_____

It was a little after eleven Friday night when Walter's cell phone rang. He was in his lab, hypothetically boosting the signal strength of the antenna he and Ralph were constructing to make contact with the Cassiopeia satellite. In reality, however, he'd spent the last four hours as he'd spent the last four days. Anxiously brooding over how he'd screwed up and the possibility Paige had left him for good.

He tried to reach out to her, but his calls dumped straight to voice mail. His texts remained unanswered. He worried whether she'd gone for her weekly check up on Wednesday. It would have the first one he'd missed since learning she was pregnant, and it pained him not to be there. 

Then to add to his already hellish week, a summons had arrived on Thursday to appear in court on Monday. The trial had gone to the jury for deliberation, and Ms Lee wanted him and Paige to be there when the verdicts were handed down on the militia members. 

So when he picked up his phone and saw her number, his heart rate accelerated and his palms began to sweat. He swiped the answer button so fast, his finger slid off the screen. "Paige?" he asked, unable to contain his elation.

But it wasn't her voice on the other end of the connection.

"Sorry, Walter. It's me. Ralph."


	17. Chapter 17

_"Sorry, Walter. It's me. Ralph_." 

Walter's disappointment it wasn't Paige lasted for a fraction of a second. Then worry something was wrong with Paige or the baby flooded through him.

"Hey, Ralph," he said cautiously. "Is everything all right?"

"Why didn't you tell my mom you were married?" 

Hearing the censure in the boy's voice made his gut twist. "It's not a real marriage," he started to explain.

"I know," Ralph cut in. "Mom told me why you did it." There was a huff of air. "You still should have told her."

"I know. I'm sorry, Ralph." Walter ran his hand through his hair. "How is she? Did she go to her appointment yesterday? Is everything okay?"

"Yes, she went to her appointment," Ralph replied. "Everything is okay with the baby, as far as I know. Are we still going to paint the nursery tomorrow?"

The abrupt change of subject threw him for a moment. "I don't know," he answered, once he regained his composure. With everything else going, he'd forgotten their plan to fix up the baby's room that weekend. "What does your mom say?"

"I haven't asked her." There was a moment of silence, then the youngster added, "she's spent most of the last few days crying in her room. She thinks I can't hear her but. . . But I can."

Walter hung his head. Not only had he hurt Paige, but he was hurting Ralph as well. And he didn't know how to make it stop. 

"I'm sorry, buddy," he said. "I want to. . . But. . ." She'd made it very clear she wanted nothing to do with him until he was divorced.

"But what? He's your son too," snapped Ralph, who then heaved a sad sigh. "Maybe if she sees you keeping your promises and committing yourself to being part of our family. . . Maybe she'll. . .maybe she'll let you come. . .come home."

_Home_. He closed his eyes. Something he once thought he could never have. He knew now it was with her. She was his home.

The rest of what Ralph said sounded a lot like something straight out of Toby's mouth. Which made him wonder if Paige had been talking to the shrink. He'd been AWOL for the past four days too. Walter knew better than to ask Happy if the behaviorist had contacted her. He was in enough pain.

Who knew a logical and expedient solution to an urgent problem six years ago would threaten to destroy the safe haven he'd created for himself and his friends. That it would threaten the family he'd thought he'd never have with the woman he loved and the boy he considered his own.

And even if he did all those things to regain Paige's trust, there was still one obstacle to overcome. . .

"I'd still be married to someone else," he pointed out. 

"I don't think she cares anymore." Walter heard the frustration in the younger genius's voice. "Just come over tomorrow morning. What's the worst that could happen?"

She could banish him for good. But Ralph was right, that would only be slightly worse than being stuck in state of uncertainty he was in now. And if she was as miserable as he was, maybe she'd consider giving him another chance?

"Okay," he agreed. "I, uh, I need to come over and get more clothes anyway. I only have a few things here at the garage, plus I need a suit for Monday."

"Yes," said Ralph enthusiastically, "that's perfect." He lowered his voice. "Just don't blow it this time, okay?"

"Okay." Walter stared down at his phone after they said their goodbyes. Hope and happiness warred with anxiety and anguish, making his stomach roil and his chest constrict. 

_Just don't blow it_. Easier said than done.

_____

Apprehension battled with optimism as Walter approached Paige's apartment at eight o'clock the next morning. The former was handily crushing the latter as he teetered on the edge of hyperventilation and spewing his guts all over the hallway carpet. Swallowing nervously, he came to a halt in front of her door.

Glancing down at his stained jeans and shirt, he wondered if he should have dressed up instead of appearing in an outfit he usually wore while performing messier aspects of his experiments. He worried it might appear presumptuous expecting to be allowed to stay to paint the nursery. But then again, his clothing options were severely limited as almost everything he owned was currently on the other side of the door. 

There was only one way to find out. With a shaky hand, he knocked softly. He mentally counted the seconds, his anticipation growing as the numbers rose higher. After five minutes, his brain began pumping out worst case scenarios; she'd gone into labor, she'd taken Ralph and absconded, they'd been overcome by carbon monoxide, they'd been kidnapped. . .

Walter fished his keys from his pocket and let himself inside. He'd barely stepped into the small foyer when he stopped in his tracks by he unmistakable sound of Paige singing. 

". . _.I see friends shaking hands_  
_Saying, "How do you do?"_  
_They're really saying_  
_I love you_. . ."

He crept closer until he could see her sitting in the recliner, her feet propped up as she rubbed her pregnant belly. Tears gathered in the corners of his eyes, and he futilely swiped at them as Ralph entered the room. The boy sat on the arm of her chair and she wrapped her arms around him as she continued to sing. 

" _I hear babies cry_  
_I watch them grow_  
_They'll learn much more_  
_Than I'll never know_  
_And I think to myself_  
_What a wonderful world_  
_Yes, I think to myself_  
_What a wonderful world_."

"You used to sing that to me when I was little," the youngster said when she had finished.

Paige gave him a hug before letting him go. "If you don't want me to sing it to the baby. . ." 

"No, it's okay." Ralph put his hand on her stomach. "I'm sure he'll enjoy it as much as I did."

"You know," she said, placing her hand atop his, "I'm going to have to spend a lot of time with the baby after he's born." She sighed. "I know everything's changed since it was just you and me. But I still love you just as much." She booped his nose.

"I know, and it's all right, Mom," the boy genius replied, his face reddening. "I'm not jealous. I know you have enough love to share with everyone; me, Walter, the baby. . .even the rest of the team." He took a deep breath. "It's like what Walter said. . . That he always thought love was an imaginary construct. . .until he met you. He told me he thinks you're love personified."

Walter watched as Paige wiped at her cheeks before drawing Ralph into another embrace. Tentatively he inched into the room, torn between not intruding on the mother-son moment yet desperately wanting to be included.

He must have made a noise of some kind because Paige turned her head, the surprise on her face quickly replaced by a smile. She gestured for him to come closer. Somehow he covered the short distance despite his unsteady legs, kneeling next to her recliner.

"Uh, I'll let you guys. . . I'll just go masking tape around the window,"Ralph suggested, "in the nursery." He kissed Paige on the cheek, then shot Walter a look that clearly meant ‘don't screw it up' before heading toward the spare room.

"So, your checkup. . ." Walter began after the youngster was out of earshot. "Is everything okay? I'm. . .I'm sorry I missed it."

"Everything's fine," she replied, "I'm fine, the baby's fine."

"Uh, good." He stared down at the arm rest. "Paige, I'm so sorry."

"Walter, it's all right. It was just one appointment. . ."

"No, not that." He raised his head, looking her in the eye. "I mean, I'm glad you're okay, the baby's okay." Rubbing his hand over his face, he continued, "I had no idea six years ago I'd ever meet someone like you. I'm sorry. Please. . ."

His words were cut off when she rested her finger against his mouth. "Walter, it's okay. I've had time to. . . to, well, think things over. And while I still believe you should have told me. . . I understand why you. . .you didn't." Her voice hitched and he looked into her glistening eyes. "I don't want you to have to go back to Ireland. I need you here. . .with me. . .and our sons."

"I don't want to go back either," he said. "I want to be here for you. And. . .and I-I, uh, I do want to marry you. Do you want to marry me?"

She didn't reply right away, which worried him. And when she did finally speak, it wasn't exactly what he'd been hoping to hear.

"Walter, I would love to marry you. But. . ." She chewed her lip nervously. "I'm not thrilled you treated marriage so casually. . . Used it as a means to an end. And that. . .well, that you and Happy. . ."

"What I said before is the truth. . . That we never. . .ever. . ." 

"I believe you," she said. "It guess it just bothers me neither of you even tried to be faithful to each other."

"We didn't try because it didn't matter," he said. "It was never like that between us. It would have been ludicrous to expect. . ."

She reached out and took his hand. "You're not helping your case there, Bub." She smiled as she said it, so he took it as a good sign. He knew she had issues with abandonment and fidelity, as she'd been badly burned by others before him. Only. . .

"I don't know how. . .how to convince you I-I won't leave you," he said, finishing his thought aloud. "Or that I'll be. . .be f-faithful to you." He paused to take a deep breath. "I can only tell you you're the first person I've ever loved this way in my entire thirty-three years, six months, two weeks, and two days on this planet. I can't imagine anything changing the way I feel in the next thirty-three years. Or the thirty-three years after that."

"Oh, God, Walter." She flung her arms around his neck, pulling him forward. "Ask me again," she murmured against his ear as she threaded her fingers through his hair.

Ask her. . . Oh. He got back down on one knee. "Will you marry me?"

Tears were streaking down her face as she nodded, "Yes, I'll marry you." She tugged him toward her again and kissed him.

He rested his forehead against hers after they came up for air. "So, does this mean. . .?" 

"Yes, it means you can come back home," she replied before glancing downward and biting her lip. "So do you have any more secrets you'd like to get off your chest?"

There was only one other thing he could think of he needed to confess. And if it was a deal-breaker. . .so be it. Hopefully though, after the fiasco of not telling her he was married, it would seem mild in comparison.

"I have been keeping something else from you," he said. As soon as the words left his mouth, he wished he could rephrase them as Paige paled significantly. 

"Oh?" He felt her retreat, steeling herself against what he was about to reveal. 

Taking a deep breath, he forged ahead. "It's not. . . Uh, I, um, I get. . . Not all the time, but. . . You being. . .being pregnant. . ." He ran his hand over the back of his neck. "I find it. . .you. . .quite arousing."

"Sweetie," she said, her lips twitching as she relaxed into his arms. "Sweetie, that's not much of a secret. I think even Sly and Cabe know."

The relief she didn't think he was a pervert was short-lived as his face grew hot over the fact everyone already knew. "Uh, speaking of, um, Cabe," he began, changing the subject. "He spoke to Deputy Director Cooper about expediting my petition for citizenship. And, um, Happy did some research, and a. . .a divorce takes six months to finalize. . .so. . ."

"We'll cross that bridge when we get it," Paige said, running her hand over her swollen abdomen. "It's just as well we can't get married now. I would like to be less pregnant so I can wear a nice dress instead of a tent."

"You look stunning in anything," he said, staring at her with his eyes full of awe. The look which always made her melt into a big gooey puddle. Grasping the sides of his face, she pulled him into a kiss.

"Uh." 

The sound of Ralph's voice startled her. Startled Walter too, judging by his uncomfortable expression.

"So, are you ready to start painting?" the boy genius asked.

"Uh, yeah, sure." Walter inhaled then exhaled before rising to his feet.

"You never did say what color paint," Paige said as she held out her hand.

Walter helped her up out of the chair. "We researched which colors and patterns to use for maximum infant brain stimulation."

"Yeah," said Ralph as they walked toward the nursery. "Light blue for the top half of the walls, then alternating green and beige stripes on the bottom."

"And the ceiling is going to be like the night sky," offered Walter, "from sunrise to sunset."

"That sounds beautiful."

"We're going to use glow-in-the-dark paint to add constellations," her son informed her as he bounced along beside her. Their enthusiasm brought tears to her eyes. And to think she almost threw it all away because of her misplaced pride.

"Hey, I just thought of some names for the baby." Wiping at her face, Paige turned to see Walter grinning. Oh, dear. . . "Orion?"

"No."

"Draco?"

"You've never read Harry Potter, have you?" 

"No. Why?"

"Never mind," she said with a sigh. "No."

"How about Perseus?"

"Do you want him to get beat up on the playground?" Paige shook her head before Walter could reply.

Undaunted, he continued on, "Leo?"

She pursed her lips as she mulled it over. "Leo? I kinda like it."

"You do?" He seemed surprised.

"Yeah, the whole Leo/lion thing. It's a strong name." She smiled at him as another thought occurred to her. "Plus it's Leonardo DiCaprio's nickname."

"Who?"

She'd had a sneaking suspicion he'd never heard of the celebrity icon. "Leonardo DiCaprio. He's an actor I had a big crush on when I was a teenager. He's still kind of a hottie." She waggled her eyebrows.

Walter was already shaking his head as she suppressed her laughter. "No. I don't like it."

"I had a feeling you wouldn't." She giggled as she kissed him on the cheek.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Lyrics from "What A Wonderful World" written by Bob Thiele (as George Douglas) and George David Weiss. Used without permission. Please don't sue.


	18. Chapter 18

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Borrowed some dialogue from "Plight at the Museum" (3x05) for Toby and Happy's scene.

**That same morning at an apartment complex several miles away**

Inhaling through his nose, Toby knocked on the door to Happy's apartment. Footsteps padded inside, growing louder as they came closer. A chain rattled and a dead bolt clicked and the door opened to reveal one pissed off mechanic who looked like she'd just tossed her cookies.

"What do you want?" She crossed her arms over her chest, covering up damp spots and the faded yellow letters of his Harvard tee shirt.

"To apologize," he announced. "I shouldn't have said the things I said. I shouldn't have walked out. And I shouldn't have waited this long to come beg you for forgiveness."

She sighed, moving aside as she opened the door wider. "Come in."

He didn't have to be asked twice. Walking inside, he came to a halt in the middle of her living room. She followed him, stopping about two feet away, staring at him expectantly.

"Well?" she said after several moments of silence had passed.

"Well, what?" Toby volleyed back. "Aren't you gonna say anything?"

The mechanic huffed out an impatient breath. "I thought you were going to apologize."

"I did."

"When?"

"Just now."

"No, you said you wanted to apologize and that you wanted to grovel for my forgiveness." She gestured toward the floor. "Get groveling."

"No, I said beg for your forgive. . ." His words trailed off and he was once again glad looks alone could not kill. Taking off his hat, he knelt down before her. "Happy, I"m sor. . ."

"Get up, you idiot." She rolled her eyes at him as he stood back up.

"I thought you wanted me to grovel?"

"I didn't think you'd actually do it." Shaking her head, the mechanic plopped down on the couch. Giving her a quick visual examination, he noted the dark circles under her puffy eyes, her green-around-the gills appearance, her unkempt hair. . . That she was scowling at him was the only thing about her that seemed normal.

"Are you okay?" he asked worriedly.

"You're the doctor, you tell me," Happy replied, wrapping her arms around herself even more defensively. Recognizing a trap when he saw one, he stayed quiet. He knew better than to flaunt his medical knowledge. 

"Yeah, I've been peachy," she said, breaking the impasse. "Puking my guts out every morning is the freaking highlight of my day." She ran a hand through her hair. "I've never been pregnant before but I hear this is pretty typical. 

"It is," he conceded. "Have you scheduled an appointment with an obstetrician yet? I can recommend. . ."

"Yeah I did. It's next Tuesday at one o'clock. Uh. . . You're welcome to come. . .if you want to that is." She glanced up at him, giving away her desire for him to say yes.

"I do want to." He gestured to the unoccupied couch cushion beside her and sat down when she nodded. "So you and Walt, huh?" He knew he was treading into dangerous territory, figuring the odds were 50-50 she'd kick his ass. 

"There was never a ‘me and Walt'," she said, surprising him with her calm reaction. "Not in any romantic sense and sexually. . . Ugh." Her face contorted with disgust and he didn't need to be a world class psychiatrist to know she was telling the truth. "I never had a sibling growing up, not a real one anyway." She paused to take a breath. "But he was the first person I ever considered to be family. He and Sly are the brothers I never had."

"Did you ever feel any brotherly love for me?" he asked, not sure if he really wanted to know the answer.

She chuckled. "You. . . You've been a thorn in my side since the day we met."

Toby grinned, recognizing the affection behind her words. "I'm sorry I freaked out about you and Walt. . . I still can't wrap my head around it. But I know why you did it and I'd be a real jerk if I let it ruin what we have together. Can you forgive me for being such a putz?"

"It's one of your more endearing qualities," she said and he caught her fleeting smirk before her face grew serious. "If the situation were reversed, if somehow you and the waitress were secretly married. . . I'd probably show far less restraint than you did. They'd be finding bits of both of you all over the city."

"Probably all over the state." He decided to change the topic once again as she shot him another dirty look. "So, what happens now? Will Walter really get deported if you two get divorced? Could you go to jail?"

"It's a possibility." She filled him in on all the details he'd missed in his absence at the garage, Cabe's intervention, Sly's political ambitions, the fact a divorce would take at least six months to go through. "I think we're supposed to get a visit from an INS agent sometime next week," she finished.

"I'm guessing it's not feasible to just tell them the marriage didn't work out," Toby stated. "Irreconcilable differences or whatever."

"Yeah, I doubt it." Happy absently rubbed her still flat belly. Something inside him did a little flip as concerns about the child she carried flooded his brain.

"When was the last time you ate? Are you taking pre-natal vitamins? Did you know your emesis gravidarum could be ameliorated if you'd just eat more foods high in iron and pro. . .?"

"Whoa, slow down, Doc." She looked like she was about to punch him. "One question at a time. And this morning. Yes. And what the hell is emesis gravid. . .gravi-dum-dum?

"Gravidarum. Medical term for morning sickness." Toby tentatively moved his hand toward her stomach, and when it appeared she wasn't going to bite it, he placed it on her abdomen. "Sorry. I just want to be a good dad," he said. 

"You will be," she said, and he glanced at her to see if she was kidding. She wasn't.

"How do you know that?" he asked seriously. "My own parents were lousy role models. Hell, I'm a lousy role model."

"At least you had role models," she stated. "I worry I won't know how to be a mother, let alone a good one."

Toby gathered her into his arms and she compliantly laid her head on his shoulder. "You're going to be a great mom. And we're lucky, because I just realized, we do have role models now. Paige and Cabe. Hell, even Walter. . .just look at him with Ralph." He squeezed her a little tighter. "I think we're going to be awesome parents."

"I just want our child to be born into a complete fully functioning legally bound family." Happy glanced up at him and he could see tears shimmering in her eyes. "But I'm not willing to throw Walter under the bus to make that wish come true."

"Hopefully we won't have to," Toby said with a confidence he didn't feel as she snuggled closer and he kissed her forehead. Green card marriages were illegal, and if it could be proven that's what she and 197 had done six years ago. . . Someone was going to be in very deep caca.

_____

"Here, let me help you with that," Walter said as he walked into the small laundry room off the kitchen later that evening. Paige had one hand braced on her back as the other flailed at the inside of the dryer, her enlarged belly impeding her range of motion

"Thanks." She straightened up, rubbing the area above her hips. "I don't remember having this much trouble when I was pregnant with Ralph."

"Is your back bothering you?" he asked as he transferred the clothes from the dryer to the basket in front of the appliance.

"A little."

"It's normal," he said. "Your center of gravity has shifted, putting more pressure on the sacroiliac joint, where your pelvis meets your spine, and your body also makes a hormone which relaxes your pelvic. . ."

"Walter, I don't need a science lecture. I've been pregnant before, you know," Paige replied, her tone heavy with exasperation. 

He glanced down at the wash cloth he held in his hand. "Uh, sorry. I, uh, I didn't mean to ramble. . ."

"I've noticed you usually ramble whenever you're nervous," she commented. What's wrong?"

"I am. Nervous, that is. And, uh, scared."

"Scared? What about?" 

"About y-you. . .and, and the b-baby." He finished emptying the dryer then placed the basket on the small counter between the two appliances. "There are so many things that could go wrong. . . I read some of Toby's obstetrics textbooks and. . ."

Paige let out a weary sigh as she started folding a wash cloth. "I'm gonna have to have another talk with Dr Curtis," she muttered, confirming his assumption she'd been in communication with the shrink during the last four days. "If it's any consolation," she said, "I'm nervous and scared too."

He let the sock he'd just picked up fall back into the basket. "But. . .but you've done this before."

"Exactly," Paige pointed out, smoothing her hand across a towel. "I was in labor with Ralph for 30 hours. I'm certainly not looking forward to doing that again. At least this time I won't be by myself." 

Thirty hours. That was nearly a day and a half. "By yourself?" he asked, wondering where the hell Drew had been.

"Yeah, by myself. My dad was. . ." She paused to take a breath. "Gone. My mom was in prison and Drew. . ." She sighed wearily. "He was supposedly at a teammate's wedding. . ."

"Supposedly?" He knew he sounded like a parrot, but what she was saying. . .

"Yeah. I found out later he was with one of his bimbos," she explained. "Didn't show up until two days later. I was so pissed at him. It's the reason why Ralph's last name is Dineen instead of Baker." Her lips twitched into a mischievous smile. " I did make sure all the bills were in his name though."

Walter chewed on his lip as he listened to talk about her ex. It still boggled his mind how Drew could have cheated on an incredible woman like Paige and then walked out on both her and her amazing son. Her words only reinforced what he'd thought all along. The man was an idiot. 

"I'm not Drew," he stated, continuing his thought aloud.

Her mirth left her face and she glared at him, furrowing her brow. "I never said you were."

"I intend to be by your side for as long as you want me to be there," he vowed. 

"Oh, God, Walter." Paige dropped the undershirt she'd been holding and threw her arms around his neck. She kissed him softly on the mouth before laying her head against his chest. 

"Uh, and there's another. . . Another reason I'm scare. . .scared." Caressing her back, he confessed, "What if. . .what if the baby's normal and I can't connect to. . .him." He placed his hand on her belly. "Like my father couldn't connect with me. I'm afraid. . ."

"Walter," she said, running soothing fingers over his shoulders. "I've seen you interact with children. Not just Ralph. Kids like Owen and Olivia. They weren't geniuses and you connected with them just fine. You're going to be great with. . ." She patted her hand her stomach. "We really need to come up with a name for this poor kid. We just can't keep calling him ‘he' or ‘the baby.'"

"It shouldn't be so difficult to pick out a name," he said, sticking his hand into the basket and pulling out a sock. "Thousands of people do it every day."

"No, it shouldn't." She shrugged. "I always knew if I had a son I was going to name him after my dad. I didn't know last time if I was having a boy or girl though, so I had names picked out for both."

"What name did you have for a girl?"

"Emma. I've always like that name." It had become quite popular though and she wouldn't have wanted her daughter to be part of a horde of girls with the same name, remembering all the Jennifers and Jessicas she'd gone to school with.

"That's a nice name," he said. "Reminds me of. . . Have I ever mentioned Emmy Noether?"

"No. Who is she?" Irrational jealousy coursed through her veins. She knew he loved her and she was his first, but still. . . She didn't like to think of the women who came before her, just as he didn't want to know about the men she'd been with before him.

"She was a German mathematician who made important contributions to abstract algebra and theoretical physics."

Oh. "I've never heard of her."

"No," he said with a wry twist to his lips. "You probably wouldn't have."

Indignation he'd so blatantly insult her intelligence raged through her and she pulled out of his embrace. "Why? Because I'm the dumb waitress?"

"No, of course not. I didn't mean to. . ." He ran his hand over his face as his eyes widened with fear. I. . .I don't think of you. . .that way," he said. "No, she had a hard time gaining acceptance in fields dominated by men and more often than not, others took credit for her work."

"That's just. . . That's just terrible." Her earlier outrage shifted from her feelings of inadequacy to anger that a woman who was smarter than most men had been treated with such disregard. 

"They did name a theorem after her. . ." Walter said quickly, "explaining the connection between symmetry and conservation. . ."

Paige stopped him before he swung into full science lecture mode. "It's too bad we're not having a girl," she stated. "Because I'd name her after Emmy Noether." She took a deep breath, which was becoming harder to do as things were getting crowded inside her. "That doesn't help us come up with a name for this little guy though, doesn't it?" 

"We could call him Emile. Or Noether." He was grinning the mischievous boyish grin of his which always made her heart beat a little faster and her legs a little wobbly. 

"I don't think so, Bub," she said, throwing a pair of his boxers at him. Two could play this game, she thought with a chuckle. "I've been thinking Walter Sean Dineen has a nice ring to it, don't you?" 

"No. I-I. . ." He looked like a deer in the headlights for a moment. "I'm sorry. . . I didn't. . ."

"It's okay, I know you're just teasing. I am, too." Exhaling, she said, "I love that you're comfortable enough to show me your silly side." Leaning over, she kissed his cheek. "I love you."

"Good." Before she could bristle at his arrogance, he wrapped his arms around her (no easy task considering she felt as big as a house) and added, "Because I love you too."


	19. Chapter 19

_Beep._

Ralph rolled over, sleepily wondering where the weird noise was coming from. It sounded again and he realized it was coming from his laptop. Sliding out of bed, he stumbled to his desk and flipped open his computer.

Drew's face filled screen. "Good morning, Ralph," he said with the same false cheerfulness he employed every time they met. "Hey, you look tired. You okay?" 

"It's five am." Ralph didn't even try to keep the annoyance out of his voice.

"Oh, sh. . . Sorry. I forgot about the time difference," his so-called father said, a big dumb grin on his face. 

Ralph sighed wearily. Drew hadn't been in contact since his visit at the end of January, right before baseball training camp began. It was not a coincidence he was getting in touch now the minor league season was over.

"So, how are you? How's school?"

"Great. Good." Ralph could tell the older man didn't really care but felt obligated to ask. 

"So, remember the last time I was there?"

"Yeah." Like he'd forget his mom and the man he wished was his real dad had been taken hostage and had nearly died.

"Yeah, so like when we were waiting for, er, news, I had a conversation with Cabe," the ballplayer explained. "And anyway, I want to know what I can do to make it up to you. . . You know, for what I did to you and your mom."

Ralph exhaled his exasperation. Drew couldn't even admit he'd abandoned them, leaving them in the lurch so he could play baseball and sleep with groupies and not have to worry about his son and the woman he claimed he loved. 

But he didn't even have to think twice about his answer. "Let Walter adopt me," he stated.

"What?" Drew looked stunned and Ralph almost believed it was genuine. "No. Absolutely not."

"Why not?" It made perfect sense to Ralph. Drew could give up the parental rights he never wanted in the first place and let someone who really cared for him be his dad. 

"Because I'm your father," the ballplayer said indignantly.

"Biologically, yes."

"What's that supposed to mean?" Drew sounded hurt and Ralph began to wonder if he'd misjudged the man he'd considered little more than a sperm donor. "I thought, well, I thought we've been bonding. I'm sorry for what I did, but you're still my son." He paused then added, "Is this what you want or is O'Brien pressuring. . ."

"I haven't discussed it with him," Ralph said. But he knew Walter wanted it as badly as he did.

"He may not want to, you know. Kids are a big responsibility."

Ralph had to refrain from rolling his eyes. Like Drew had a clue what that meant.

"He does." Taking a deep breath, he decided to break the news, "He asked mom to marry him and he wants us to be family. And I want that too. I want to have the same last name as my brother."

"Brother? How do. . .?" Drew bit off the rest of his sentence then cleared his throat. "What brother?"

_Oops_. "Mom and Walter are having a baby. In about five weeks. I thought she would have. . ."

"I haven't talked to her since January. You're telling me she's been pregnant. . ." Ralph could almost hear the wheels grinding as Drew tried to do the math. "Shit. She and O'Brien. . ." He said Walter's name like it was a swear word. "So she got knocked up when I was there. . .?"

"It's not yours." Ralph wanted to make that perfectly clear.

"I know it's not. I haven't touched Paige since. . ." Obviously deciding not to inform his son of the last time he'd had sex with his mother, Drew frowned. "My answer is still no. You're a Baker and you always will be."

"My last name is not Baker, and it never will be," declared Ralph, not bothering to hide his disappointment. "I'll be 18 in a few years. I can change it to O'Brien then and you won't be able to stop me."

"Ralph. . .son. . ."

"Don't call me that. I don't want to be your son." He hated this. This feeling he should owe something to this man who had abandoned him, had abandoned his mother. He shook his head wearily. "Listen, I gotta go. I'd like to get some more sleep before I have to get up for school."

"Ralph. . ." Drew closed his eyes for a second. "Okay. Sorry about that. We'll talk later. Okay?"

"Sure." Clicking on the icon, he ended the conversation, shutting his laptop before climbing back into bed. Ralph stared at the glow in the dark stickers his mom had randomly stuck up on the ceiling when they'd first moved in. 

He was still awake when his alarm went off an hour later.

_____

"Do you remember where you left your book report?" Paige asked a yawning Ralph as they entered the garage.

"Uh, I think it was on your desk," said the youngster who then ran off in that direction.

Walter wandered over to his workstation, carrying the handful of mail he'd collected from the box. It still seemed wrong for Ralph to waste his time in middle school, with its lack of challenges and intellectual peers. But he had to concede Paige, and Ralph, had a valid point. The boy needed to be able to relate to humans. 

A faint lemony scent teased his nose and he turned to see Toby carrying a cup of hot tea over to Happy's workbench. "It will help boost your immune system, Sugarplum."

If the mechanic's expression was anything to go by, the shrink was lucky she didn't dump the scalding liquid on his head. Walter suppressed a grin as he sorted through the envelopes (mostly bills), political flyers, catalogs, and a couple of postcards. One depicting several bikini clad women was from Ray, who was evidently ‘enjoying the view' in Santa Monica, the other was blank except for his name and address. 

"Found it!" shouted Ralph from the kitchen as the garage door creaked open

"You kids ready to go?" asked Cabe as he strolled inside followed by Sylvester who was clutching a clipboard full of papers. 

Walter shoved the mail into his inbox. He was more than ready to get this ordeal finished. "Yes. . ."

"What's that?" Toby asked Sly, pointing to the clipboard.

"I'm going to gather signatures in front of the Pick ‘N' Save this afternoon," replied the human calculator. "I need 200 to get put on the ballot for the alderman's race."

"Good luck with that," said Cabe before taking a sip from his travel mug.

"There's no such thing. . ." Walter started to mumble.

"Ralph!" Paige's wail from the kitchen cut him off. "You can't turn this in. Someone used it as a coaster for their coffee cup."

"It's still legible," he heard the youngster reply.

"No it's not. You're going to have to rewrite it." Paige emerged from the kitchen, one hand rubbing her belly while the other held the offending paper. "Sly, can you make sure he does it before his carpool picks him up?"

"Sure." The human calculator was sitting at his desk, adjusting the clips he kept on the rim of a jar.

"Mom. . ." Ralph closed his mouth when he saw his mother's face. "Fine, I'll redo it," he mumbled mutinously.

"Darn right you will." She turned to smile tiredly at Cabe. "Ready to go if you are." A pained look came over her as she bent forward.

Walter rushed to her side. "Are you okay?"

"Yeah," she replied taking a deep breath. "Your son just punched me in the bladder. I'll be right back." She waddled toward the bathroom.

"Why is he always ‘my' son when he kicks her or gives her heartburn or when she can't sleep?" he asked, thinking of the previous evening when she'd been unable to sleep. Between the baby practicing karate (her words, not his) and her anxiety over the trial, she'd tossed and turned, trying to get comfortable. It wasn't until he'd rocked her in his arms she'd been able to finally fall asleep.

"Just wait until he colors on the wall or tries to flush his toys down the toilet," the agent said with a chuckle which belied the sadness in his eyes, leading Walter to believe the other man was remembering some of his daughter's childhood escapades. "Then you'll really be in trouble."

He opened his mouth to argue the older man's explanation lacked logic but snapped it shut when Paige emerged from the bathroom. "Let's go get this over with," she said, grabbing her bag and sweater before going over to give Ralph a hug and kiss on the head. "Love you. Don't miss your carpool."

"I won't." 

Walter ruffled the boy's hair as he passed by. "We'll work on the nursery again tonight. Okay, buddy?"

"Okay." The boy stared up at him for a moment before giving him a quick hug then running off toward the kitchen.

"He has a protection detail in place, right?" Paige asked Cabe once Ralph was out of earshot. 

"Yes. Don't worry," the Homeland agent said. "He'll be fine." 

As they exited the garage, Walter only hoped the the older man was right. If anything happened to Ralph or Paige or the baby, he'd never forgive himself.

____

Walter adjusted his tie as he and Paige reached the hallway outside the courtroom. Glancing around, he couldn't see Cabe in the people milling about the crowded corridor. The agent had gone to park his SUV after dropping them off at the rear of the courthouse, not wanting a repeat of the mistake they'd made at their earlier court appearance.

"I see you got the summons," Ms Lee said as she approached them. Her mouth twisted in a sneer, she looked them up and down. "Is that the only dress you own?" she asked Paige, who once again wore the navy blue sailor dress.

"No," the liaison snapped back. "But it's the only one that fits." Which technically wasn't true, Walter silently contradicted her. The red satin dress still fit her. He gulped, recalling just how well it fit her and just how inappropriate it was, as were his current thoughts.

The attorney sighed, wielding her hand dismissively. "Hopefully no one else will notice. I'm certain we'll get guilty verdicts for the murder, kidnapping, and assault charges. But. . ." She paused and frowned them. "The odds of Gray and Talbot being convicted on the attempted rape charges are almost nil, no thanks to your testimony. You should have been upfront me." She glared at Paige. 

Walter could tell she was near tears, her voice cracking as she replied, "I was." 

"No, you weren't," Ms Lee replied. "If I'd known you'd agreed to have sex with them in exchange for his life. . ." She jabbed her finger at Walter, making it seem like she wanted to add the word ‘worthless' before "life'. "I would never have included those charges. You were both humiliated for nothing."

"And our humiliation made you look incompetent, didn't it?" He knew he'd struck a nerve when she turned to him with a snarl on her face.

"As I've mentioned before, I don't like losing. When I lose, the bad guys win." With that, she spun on her heel and stalked off, her shoes clicking loudly on the shiny tile floor.

He rubbed Paige's back as she reached into her purse, searching for a tissue. "You okay?" he asked. 

"Yeah," she replied, dabbing at her eyes. "I really don't like that woman." 

He was about to agree when a bailiff approached them. "Court convenes in five minutes," the woman said. "You need to take your seats."

Paige's bottom lip quivered as Walter helped lower her to the bench in the spectators' gallery. Cabe slipped into the open spot next to Walter a few moments later. "I've just checked in with agents keeping an eye on Ralph," he said. "Everything's clear." 

"Good," Walter replied distractedly, the lawyer's harsh comments still echoing through his mind.

"You kids okay?" asked the agent. 

"No, not really," Paige replied with a sigh. "I just wish this. . ." She waved her hand in the air vaguely. "This, everything, was all be over with." 

Walter wholeheartedly agreed, although he wasn't sure if she meant just the trial, or if she was including the pregnancy, his divorce from Happy, and the threat of deportation hanging over his head. 

"It will be soon," he said truthfully. The trial would be over that day, the pregnancy in about a month. The divorce would take six months. He would learn in a week or two if his expedited petition for citizenship would be accepted or denied and whether or not he'd have to leave the country.

Paige inhaled sharply, capturing his attention, before whispering "Oh, God." Her face had paled and she placed her hands protectively on her stomach. A myriad of scenarios streamed through his mind, everything from she'd gone into labor to she'd forgotten to turn off the stove.

There was only one way to find out. "What's wrong?"

" _She's_ here." 

"Who?" he asked, completely baffled. 

"The woman. . . That woman. . ." Paige tilted her head to the left. Walter slid his eyes in that direction and saw a middle-aged woman in a yellow jacket and skirt taking a seat directly across from them.

"The one who threatened you?" 

"Yes." 

Turning his head slightly, he saw the woman bare her teeth at them before pointedly glancing down at Paige's belly. He started to rise to this feet as indignation rose inside him. This woman's husband was a kidnapper and a rapist who deserved to go to jail. He was not going to sit idly by and let her intimate Paige or anyone else. 

"Walter, no," Paige hissed, tugging on his arm as Cabe pulled on the other, causing him to lose his balance. He gracelessly fell back onto the bench.

"She can't. . ." he began before being interrupted by a side door opening. Two bailiffs led the five handcuffed defendants to the table on the left side of the courtroom. They were all grim faced except for the leader, who was smirking. 

Reaching over, he grasped Paige's hand, giving it what he hoped was a reassuring squeeze as the jury entered from another door and took their seats. 

"All rise," one of the bailiffs called out. "Court is now in session. The Honorable Judge Thomas Greer presiding."

Walter had barely begun to help Paige to her feet when the judge banged his gavel, ordering them all to be seated. 

"Has the jury reached a verdict?" Judge Greer turn to address the twelve people sitting in the jury box.

"We have, Your Honor," the foreman said, handing a folded piece of paper to a bailiff, who carried it over to the judge..

"Will the defendants please stand?" They hardly had time to get up when Greer started reading the charges with the foreman responding with the verdicts.

"Derek Kilkenny. Three counts of murder." "Guilty". "Three counts of kidnapping." "Guilty." "Five counts of assault with a deadly weapon." "Guilty." 

Walter noticed the militia leader was no longer looking smug as the list of charges continued on, all with corresponding guilty verdicts. The next defendant, Donald Brady, was announced guilty of all charges as well.

"Larry Talbot." Paige stiffened beside him, cradling her stomach. It should have been impossible but her face was even paler than before. Walter stared at back of the man who'd held a knife to her throat, who'd tried to rape her. . . He gave his head a shake as images of that day flashed through it.

"Seven counts of assault." "Guilty." "Three counts of kidnapping." "Guilty." "One count of murder." "Guilty." "One count of attempted rape. . ."

Walter held his breath as Paige tightened her grip on his hand as they waited the foreman's reply.

"Guilty."


End file.
